the silence
e n v e l o p s me
and evokes my
harsh thoughts.
it is a d u l l
and throbbing
hum in my ears.
the silence is
d e a d l y yet
comforting,
as what do I
have to lose?
one day the
silence becomes
a song, a sound,
a w h i s p e r .
after all,
how can you
hear something
if you don't
break the
s i l e n c e .
- b.c
YOU ARE READING
scintilla
Poetryscintilla, sin/till/ah. a tiny trace or spark of a specified quality or feeling. another collection of poems by bec g. crawley.
