The Quiet Is Too Loud

My head hurts.

She has got to be the loudest person that no one can

hear that I’ve ever met.

Her silence is the soundtrack to the images that flash 

through my eyes.

The thoughts in my head are a highlight reel 

of my biggest mistakes whilst 

the scars in my heart feel freshly bled.

I miss the chatterboxing of the roating globe 

as it drowns out her incessant muteness.
My head hurts.

Would it kill her to shut up?

Is this what she looks forward to all day?
As light streches across the sky, she must 

extend her limbs, picking up the various

seeds of doubt and toxic splendor planted by 

every potential that was nice enough to stab 

me in the front.

She waters them with my unshed tears and 

watches them flourish in the dark of the night 

when everything is silent.. Except for her.

The moment where the world is quiet and 

my eyes cannot shut is her moment to shine.
My chest hurts.
It’s not enough that the images of wishing horses 

that were never ridden pierces my brain but the 

waterfall of unshed tears sinks my heart and I am 

left gasping for air as everyone else releases it in a snore.

It’s not enough that my stomach twists and turns itself into 

the tightest of knots. 

It’s not enough that the skin on my arms prickles with an 

itch that only a blade can scratch.

It’s never enough, especially for her.


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