| The speaking of the silence... conforting murmors... The stab in the chest of a sad song. Right on the wide open wound. When everything collapses. When the world crumbles around you. As you don't know whether to hold on and try to save something, or to just let go and fly with the wind into the unknown. And the silence conforts you because there's still something. THeres' still something after everything's gone. Theres' silence. A throbbing pain in your chest that's decided to become your new best friend. The pain of goodbye. The pain of letting go of what was once so dear. The fear that there'll be nothing left of you once that's gone. The fear of being empty, once that is no more. So everything goes so you realize that you're not. You're not empty. You're everything. Conforting. You're the silence at 4:00 AM telling you you're still there. You're the joy of feeling loved, wanted, protected and cared for. You're the throbbing pain when that's taken away. You're the fear there'll be nothing left of you after. And you're what's left after. |
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