When I feel silenced I like to scream, scream at the top of my lungs, until I collapse and heave. My ribs are broken, every breath is painful. Why do we keep breathing when we know pain is coming? I wish I could die a sleepless death, without the pills or resorting to something overly drastic. Pills take too long and rot your insides. Bullets are just too messy and loud. But it's the breathtaking silence that gets me, when I want to take my own breath away. To stop the beating entity, I must be silent, but when I feel silent I like to scream. Screaming is not silent. It's the quiet game, let's see who will snap first. I thought I could get out, but getting out is just more of the same. The same bitter tones and sideways glances I despise with all my stretched  out soul. I'm worn out from the silence, but I need to be silent to break free. Maybe if I'm quiet enough you'll forget about me and move on to bigger things like curing silence instead of succumbing to it.