Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2015
It got quiet real fast last night.
Not like usual where the people outside the walls screech until 2am when they finally stumble back to their respective beds.
It must've been too cold for screeching and wandering last night.
Because it got real quiet. Right around 12.

And it was the kind of quiet that makes you both tense and relaxed.
Afraid to move or you'll disturb it, but calm in the middle of it all because silence is rare.
In fact there's no such thing.
Everything makes noise,
When you roll over, the wind, the lone car that drove past, and your breathing.
Especially the breathing.
It's noisy in it's own quiet way just a vital in and out that keeps you alive.

Lungs like attention, they like to be heard.
Even when they're not shouting angry profanities, or cheers, or whispering I love yous...they make their gentle in-out whoosh. Reminding you that you're alive and that's
a splendid and spectacular notion
K F
Written by
K F
  798
       bones, Rose, ---, ---, --- and 6 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems