Writing Prompt

If silence had a scent it would smell like dust built up over time not the dust in a kind old grandmothers home but the dust that rolls in at the end of a battle

If silence had a scent it would be sharp but you don’t quite know where you have smelled it before

if silence had a scent It would be an odd mix of different things of dust of new and of old

If silnce had a scent It would be in my amortentia It would be that of a freshly opened book A newly painted canvas one which you have to step back to admire

If silence had a scent It would be coffee and a coll breeze those little moments of peace before a day of chaos

If silence had a scent I would bottle it up and keep it all for myself

If silnec had a scent It would be salty tears wishing and fears

If silence had a scent It would be hard to trace yet utterly remarkable It would be impossible to live without It would fill the silence with its sound

 The wet mud after a thunderstorm, that's the smell that silence gives off. The quietness that suddenly settles itself within the Earth as the clouds slowly float away, the raindrops ceasing to fall, the roar of thunder fading away -- that is the best description of silence I could give. That smell of mud left by a storm is as if nature was crying, like the melancholic child it is.

Sticky wind before a storm Buttered toast fresh out the oven The hot, stuffy air when you leave the shower

Fresh paper of a book Sliding honey on a baked bun Cool hair cream covering new braids

Popcorn, salty and crunchy The smell of snickerdoodles and cinnamon And the musky, familiar smell of my jacket

And that air, that other air When you know you are loved And you have things to love

When you know You have it better than most And you smell that silence knowing it

That you even have silence Is a blessing in itself Your own peaceful silence

Many take it for granted Others don’t have the chance to And some see it, and keep it safe

Is your own silence on your mind?

If silence had a scent, it would smell like warm lit vanilla candles. A stewing pot of soup or a brewing pot of coffee. Rain on a summer day or a bonfire on a cold fall night. Pages from a book bought right off the shelf. Leather seats in a new car driven off the lot. A christmas tree freshly chopped from the stump.

if silence had a smell, for it may be. a flower, the air, or possibly me. and though I wish it couldn't possibly be, I fear the scent of silence is purely me.

and though I speak all day, every day. everything i say is quiet, or weak. I'm not quite sure what to say.

my mother would say "darling you're perfect" and I would believe. but now I'm starting to wonder if I'm worth it. or if I should simply leave.

I often smell silence, its true, I confess. you will too, its the way the world is, I guess. I'm starting to wonder if I am to profess. if silence isn't the smell of you, then you're simply blessed.

analysis underneath

Theme

Central Idea and Subject Matter:

The central idea of the poem revolves around the exploration of personal identity and self-worth through the metaphor of silence. The speaker grapples with feelings of inadequacy and the notion that their silence may define them, leading to existential questioning. The subject matter encompasses themes of introspection, familial expectations, and the contrast between external perception and internal reality.

Language

Word Choice and Literary Devices:

The language used in the poem is introspective and contemplative, using simple yet evocative phrases. The phrase "if silence had a smell" serves as a metaphor that encapsulates the essence of the poem, suggesting that silence has a tangible quality that can evoke emotions. The repetition of "silence" emphasizes its significance in the speaker's life. Additionally, the use of imagery (e.g., "a flower, the air") creates a sensory experience, while the contrast between the mother's reassurance and the speaker's internal doubts highlights the tension between external validation and self-perception. The use of enjambment (the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line), particularly in phrases like "and though I speak / all day, every day," adds a flow to the reading that mirrors the continuous nature of the speaker's thoughts.

Sound and Rhythm

Syllabic Patterns and Stresses:

The poem has a free verse structure, with no strict syllabic pattern or metrical rhythm. However, there is a natural cadence created through varying line lengths and the placement of pauses, often at the end of lines. This creates a reflective quality, allowing the reader to linger on the speaker's thoughts. The use of enjambment helps maintain a fluid rhythm, while caesuras (pauses within lines) emphasize moments of reflection and uncertainty.

Structure

Framework of the Poem:

The poem is structured into a series of stanzas, with varying line lengths that contribute to its free verse style. The lack of a consistent rhyme scheme gives the poem a conversational tone, while occasional rhymes (e.g., "be/me" and "weak/leave") provide moments of musicality. Punctuation is used to create pauses and emphasize certain phrases, such as the use of commas to slow the reader down and allow for contemplation. The line breaks often occur at points of emotional weight or thematic significance, guiding the reader's interpretation.

Context

Who, What, Where, When, and Why:

The poem appears to be a personal reflection from a speaker who is navigating their sense of self amidst feelings of inadequacy and the burden of silence. While the specific identity of the speaker is not mentioned, they seem to be addressing their internal struggles, possibly in a private or intimate setting. The "who" could represent anyone grappling with self-worth and the impact of silence on their lives. The "what" involves the exploration of these themes through metaphor and imagery. The "where" is more abstract, as it reflects an internal landscape rather than a physical location. The "when" is timeless, as issues of identity and self-worth are universally relevant. Finally, the "why" may stem from a desire to articulate the complexities of personal experience and to find solace in shared vulnerability, connecting with others who may feel similarly isolated.

let me know how i did. i think this is my best work so far!

i’m not going down without a fight. the ties around my wrist are are so tight i can feel my pulse thrashing against the restraint. there’s a bag over my head keeping me from seeing where we’re going, but they didn’t gag me. i scream so loudly it feels like my vocal cords are shredding, hoping desperately for someone to hear me. they must not be worried that i’ll be heard, the thought momentarily stills me. with the fight i have left in me i struggle against my captors hoping to rip free of their grasp. still screaming, i hear the sound of a heavy door creaking and sweeping across the floor as it opens. quickly i’m shoved forward, falling to my knees i suck in a sharp breath stunned from the fall. behind me i hear the door shut swiftly, i pause trying to take in my surroundings. calming my heart and holding my breath i listen, straining to hear something anything to hint at where i am. nothing. i hear nothing. wherever i am feels as if time has stopped, no sounds, not even the shuffling of my own feet on the floor as i try to find anything that can help tell me where i am. it is deadly quiet almost as if the space itself is absorbing sound. i find what i assume is a wall, sliding down it so that i can sit, attempting to ease the anxiety from my body. breathing in and out i notice the smell of old books, a comforting scent, as i begin come to terms that i am completely utterly alone.

i didn’t talk because i was scared scared of the pain that i felt last year, scared of how you didn’t text me all summer, didn’t try to see me i felt like a fool, thinking what we had was special, something important to you at least now you know that i still love you, sadness washing over me every time you walked by i wonder if we’re too broken to be fixed but you if you try i will too

I will try harder than i ever have before if you just tell me why why you stopped talking to me and why you were so cruel when you did why did you ignore me on the first day of school? on the bus when i tried to talk to you you kept looking away i felt like an idiot i thought we worked things out last year you said we did i apologized so many times i included you more i told you i loved you and id always love you and thats still true we’re blood you and i always will be there is a piece of you in my soul and no matter how hard i try to rip it out it will always be there and i want to try again really, i do but i need to know why you just stopped talking to me because i know i know i know that you can see me when i look at you and every memory replays in my head i know you can see the wrenching pain in my eyes even when i look away

i’m glad we’re on the same page i’m glad it’s not just me who misses us i know you don’t believe me i really don’t care because i know you miss me i miss you and that’s goddamn refreshing you’re a good actress i’ll give you that you really don’t seem to care i’m glad you do though

Iron, Its silence. Outdoor air, Silence. Roses, Silence.

S weet summer air I feel the breeze run cool fingers through my hair L ying under a canopy of green E very moment of stillness is serene N o losing time that others stole C riss cross applesauce, hands in the bowl E ven a bit of calm is gold

I prefer the chatter of the brook to human voices S olitude is one of my best choices

G reat it is to be alone O n my own I could for hours roam L ittle do you know D ays go by faster, on my own