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I fear the Quiet.
echoing in bloody peace,
louder & ever louder-
hauntingly, mockingly.
She cannot be trusted.
The Quiet fills my mind and whispers to me
false confidences and manipulated realities.
The Quiet chases me.
She requires my screams,
consumes my silence,
rejoices in my suffocation!
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My silence is like manna to Her, floating from the windows of heaven.
like warm rains after a drought-
like the stolen moon made bright-
the orb of which mesmerizes even the most steadfast eye on horizon;
it’s presence alone an illusory herald.
not a tangible beast yet so potent it touches me.
unseen in all nature but undoubtably of this plane of being.
The Quiet would devour my heart, make uneasy my Spirit and unleash me to the world unwhole.
name me untrue, rock me into the hellish eternity, and smother me so lovingly.
The Quiet wrests in my mind for ages and makes weak my will.
Makes weak my desire.
Makes weak my happiness.
It’s so quiet here.
