You can get addicted to a certain type of silence
A silence,
That crashes and rumbles with the white noise of unthought thoughts
A silence That tastes of bitter bile and sharp edge of sour saliva
A silence That smells of empty rooms and
Overflowing rain in the gutter
A silence That feels like an astronaut alone, in the drifting sea of infinite space
A silence That appears as a solitary girl,
Sitting on the edge of a bed
Lost in the silence created by shards of grass,
Fragments of the moon
She's lost,
Addicted to the silence of walking down her street, her boulevard of shattered dreams