Silence isn’t a sound. It’s a feeling.
Fire and ice tearing through my veins,
burning, freezing, never settling.
It’s the weight of being misunderstood,
a language I never learned to translate.
Pain stays quiet so no one else has to hear it.
Silence steals the light from my eyes.
It sits in my chest, heavy as regret, sharp as a blade.
Forms a lump in my throat,
tight as a fist that refuses to unc...