I can’t explain what it is about the quiet that scares me,
Or why it sends chills down my spine
To know that someday the quiet is all we’ll know.
Maybe it’s because the worst
Always followed the quiet,
Sneaking in on its tail,
Ripping away false senses of comfort.
Perhaps it’s more,
Confusion of a heavier sort.
Within the quiet you’re faced with reality,
You become forced to realize
It’s less no one hearing you scream
But more like no one cares when you do.
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