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Phone laying on the duvet.
Silence is a myth – voices and thoughts are the true form of noise.
Sounds that can cause chaos and comfort in one.
An unsettling idea with the power to explode.
A silenced voice, a mind in commotion.
Waiting for the chimes is like watching the sun lose its warmth;
Erratic actions.
Are our weakest moments not the most truthful form of our being?
Be strong, have will power.
Is the façade not a sign of weakness?
Feelings lessened by the fear of weakness.
Emotions heightened alone in an empty, silent room.
How dare they, how could they.
Waiting for the chimes, twisting and turning through the sheets.
Distractions are just delays – the noise will come back.
For silence is never there, even when we sleep.
We dream.
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nice poem :)
❤❤
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