Silence is alone.
Silence is my cage, locking my jittery figure away into its trap.
The gilded bars of this cage are beautiful yet screaming with deceit.
The silence is a trap.
I am shut away from the rest of history,
left to drown in the dreams of yesterday.
My heart turns to burning ice that crushes my lungs.
Breathing gradually progresses into an impossible mess.
I am swimming through this sensory deprivation tank,
feeling nothing yet going forward.
The thick liquid of this life is filling my lungs and choking me.
But at last the silence subsides.
The liquid evaporates and a cacophony crashes to life,
but the cacophony is not my own.
