Silence was a priceless gift.

One only I could understand.

Whereas some people enjoy talking on the train,

I sit by myself in solidarity to think.

When I go outside with my family,

My mother has my sister,

And my father has my brother,

And I like being alone to think.

But now, sitting at the desk,

I need noise.

I can’t be alone with my thoughts,

The thoughts that push me lower, into a pit of despair.

I need music to keep my mind off what I had been thinking of,

And on what I need to work on.

And even the music makes me think.

So I turn it off.

And now I’m alone with my thoughts,

Thoughts of things that bring me down, instead of bringing me up.

I’m not distant, I’m thoughtful.

All the time.

And the night doesn’t help either,

The dark amplifying the fears and worries that are easier to

Push down in the day.

And I love the dark, for its ability to help me think, but tonight, no.

I feel as though nobody is around,

And I am in a ghost town.

But maybe I am,

But they haven’t left, I have.

I feel ignored,

Forgotten,

Alone.

Nobody to understand my situation.

So, even if silence is a priceless gift,

I’d rather have noise.

Becuase Life is noisy, and death is silent.