There is a silence that hovers, lingers
it lurks in the ringing of my ears;
the violence of passivity
the broken remains of a living breath
crawl along the forest floor like a starved leech;
latching onto memories and learned behaviors
a puppeteered husk among the awake
trying to pretend that it's still alive
although it lacks the pulse to prove it
There is a sound that breaks, cuts
it hides in the crevice of my conscious mind;
the last beat of my own heart
although my lungs still breathe and my legs still walk
and my eyes still seek
for they have yet to find meaning in this charade
when behind them lies my brain
and ahead of my path, the water is still