When she moaned in your ear and brought her nails against your scalp.
When homework became forgotten sheets of paper and late nights became regular mishaps.
When his repertoire of calling you nothing had you hopelessly drowning in the words.
When you got so used to rocking on the floor and holding your head against the screams of your mother, it became a ritual of expectance.
When you wished through chapped lips and mascara-stained cheeks on a whisper-coated tongue for it all to go away,
sometimes sound is the equivalent of silence.
2:35 AM
9/8/17
