The calm --
it sweeps through my arms
and grazes my hair
as it washes over
my scarred, battered skin.

It speaks --
it tells me of all the sorrows I've suffered
in my ear,
where I cannot help but overhear
the words that should soothe but do not.

Its touch --
so cold, so ice cold
that my shivers are uncontrollable
and I cannot hide, or speak, or think
because the silent noise overwhelms every inch of me.