creative writing, poetry, silence, writing


Everyone has an opinion

A right to be heard

But when all anyone does is

Scream, even the tiny bones

In your ears soften to wax

Taking stock

A guarded retreat

To the calm places within


The brown foaming anger

Thick glistening chunks of outrage

Bobbing on its churning surface

Congealing against the walls

Under your nails

No matter how hot you run the water

No, locking the door

A book is picked up

A moment where eyes are shut

And the savage dogs of gratification

Are fed with the notion of a peace

That will come in time

Watching the shadows grow thick

Fed upon the prickling anxiety

That leaves like a fever sweat

Silence is armour

When the world stands at the gate

And calls for blood

Light a candle

When it is too dark to read

But what do you light

When it is too dark

To speak?


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