Poetry (2015-2017)

Silence.

I am both an admirer and loather of silence. And that itself is a contradictory statement. I appreciate silence after a long day of being around a noise of people. It adds to the peaceful solitude that I like to surround myself in and like two souls that are meant to be, they can almost never stray too far from one another.

It's the attentive listener on which you confine all your plaguing thoughts and troubles to. It doesn't judge or react. And yet, when I give it away freely to the people I've lost contact with. It speaks the loudest. It screams vulgarly and pesters my darkened mind, poking it repeatedly with a painful remembrance for the things that I wish to forget.

It effortlessly expresses the unseen levels of forbidden truth without any reaching sound. It is then that I begin to loathe with massive distaste. For it transforms into a state of harsh reality, no longer the beaming tranquil heaven that it once originally was. 

It dawns on me like an overclouded moon. It's apprehensive shadow of realisation reveals a lonely demon. It drives me to unbearable insanity, like agonising frustration over a guilty criminal who refuses to confess. A screeching and deafening battle of helplessness.

It swallows you whole during the most heart-shattering moments of your life. No words can be said as the silence says it all without any interruptions or failings.

It grins like a sociopath as it pushes invisible brick walls between you and the one whom you are trying your hardest to get closest to. It cackles with delight when the speaker chooses to drown in it's suggestive entirety, making others cry with it's confirmation chain of unspoken deceit.

It accompanies the journey of the dead when they abruptly pass over to the other side. An everlasting impact as it's haunting performance makes you speechless in the worst way. 

It either fills you with shame or disdain. It paints a honest picture of where you stand with people. It's a conversational filler that is ironically empty. The dreaded action of making itself known is enough to upset many. It answers all your questions and shows little concern for those who can clearly understand it's drawn out cruelty.

That's why I choose to block out such a void of nothingness. I challenge it's melancholic existence with soul-defying music. I guess you could say I give it some substance. For an overstaying guest in my life, it's the perfect solution to cause it's immediate absence. Because silence is not always welcome or needed.

I don't crave it immensely nor do I necessarily want it. Silence opens up a world of interpretation to those seek it. Meanwhile, I just consider it a burden of living. A parting goodbye to those who you love most.