I want to write about Silence
Monday, April 27, 2015
This is the silence when you want more. Not for the lack of courage but for the fact that too much of something is not good. You’ve seen how much of a good thing destroys you. It lifts both of your feet up the ground, taking you as high as the dark sky and drops you at the peak of everything; high enough that you won’t land on your feet.
This is the silence after an I love you. Not for the lack of love, but for the notion that a better way to respond to an I love you is to love the person back. Your lack of word may dismay them, but you know so well that actions speak louder than words—at least most of the time.
This is the silence after a declaration of love without the assurance that it will be returned. You hope for the best, that you’re going to be loved back. Funny isn’t it? How we rip our hearts open and expose it to the world hoping for a bit of mercy? We take the risks.
This is the silence of guilt, the one that comes right after cheating. The void where I’m sorry I made a mistake should be but was barely there. So instead, we keep still with questions of what’s next troubling our minds. We keep still, fearing for the next mistake we might commit.
This is the silence of guilt, the one that comes right after cheating. The void where I’m sorry I made a mistake should be but was barely there. So instead, we keep still with questions of what’s next troubling our minds. We keep still, fearing for the next mistake we might commit.
This is the silence after the war of words. The one where it’s my fault, I’m sorry takes place but the anger and resentment got too mixed up, it won’t let us speak. So we let the silence drag us on, waiting for the other camp to retreat and surrender, waiting for the last white flag to go up.
This is the silence after you pleaded for a second chance. The kind of silence that means there’s none left, you have consumed them all. The lull where a please should be but the thought of begging is just too much to swallow.
This is the silence after losing both your mind and your heart—the one that occurs when you go for the right thing instead of the option that serves you happy. It’s when you brought your heart to a war with your mind and it ended up losing; because the mind is always right. It knows the right thing to do. But the heart wants what it wants. It’s inconsolable, sometimes hopeless. It scares the entirety of you.
This is the silence when you don’t know what to do. It’s the silence that screams emptiness. It’s the kind of silence that tells you, you are on your own.
Tell me. What kind of silence do you want to write about?
This is the silence after you pleaded for a second chance. The kind of silence that means there’s none left, you have consumed them all. The lull where a please should be but the thought of begging is just too much to swallow.
This is the silence after losing both your mind and your heart—the one that occurs when you go for the right thing instead of the option that serves you happy. It’s when you brought your heart to a war with your mind and it ended up losing; because the mind is always right. It knows the right thing to do. But the heart wants what it wants. It’s inconsolable, sometimes hopeless. It scares the entirety of you.
This is the silence when you don’t know what to do. It’s the silence that screams emptiness. It’s the kind of silence that tells you, you are on your own.
Tell me. What kind of silence do you want to write about?
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