The Silence

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Oh so many times I promised I would stop, yet here I am, still waiting for the silence to touch my cold hand. I haven’t written a word for days and it’s killing the creatures inside, once so eager to come out and breathe on their own. They’re weak now and I wish they’d leave me alone, and yet I crave the company. What am I without those screams? Night creeps in and I wait again, try my best to breathe and not think, but what would I be without the ice that tightens my throat? What would I be if I could no longer hear the torturous words whisper in my ear? Once they were mine and I was in control, now they have a life of their own and they know exactly how to keep me coming back, begging for more.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Waiting for your writings

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