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Silver Feb 8
not a bird in earsight,
but the wind is quite insistent

as the leaves rustle and chatter in
conversation every instant

the sky is blue, the sun elsewhere
your eyes are dry, face bare.

the clouds are few but lazy as ever!
hope to stand and watch forever,

the perfect wind that flips your hair but it's
welcome as home, the
silence that fills your head with talk.

a beautiful day!
look at the small things and you will find happy hiding away
Silver Feb 7
feel the burning in your head
feel the burning in your lungs
feel the burning in the heart
and the hurt that makes you start

see the white on your arms
and the creases of your palms.

trace the lines of regret. the small sting of

silent thunder.

everything is anger.
you are anger.
everything is fire.
but you are even worse. the silent dark.

feel the snake rise up in your stomach
to your chest. blood flows down
into the abyss, iron tang
and black shine.

it's always your fault, they say. the way you present,
the who that you embody,
the tone you project,
the everything.
the coarse words scraping around
in your lungs.
(they're actually screams.)

search for red, red but only
find black, black.



but not away.
i'm sick of thinking your wrong is right
Silver Feb 7
try to find your way when

the voices are far
and the fog is near.

try not to get lost when

the eyes burn
the tongue dries
the ears fall away and
the heart falls apart.

like two lips that lose their
words and choose to breathe instead,
to pacify the aches in the head.

but most important is what you find beneath the haze.

the art
of the maze.
time is passing slow but the hours go fast
Silver Jan 16
eyelids are heavy like
weights dropping on your toes.
sleep and thoughts are formidable foes.
but meanwhile in the haze i can't feel my nose.
i guess it goes and goes.
Silver Dec 2018
sometimes it's a place i'd like to be
alone and unafraid
floating through the inbetween.
silence is noise, but never alarm
a place where you can't give or receive harm
lose all your friends, but it isn't the end
someday you might see them again!
but for now this is better, to shield your soul
from what's through and done.
what's left is a hole.

(you don't know if this is for the best, but.
you really, really. really just want to rest.)
Silver Nov 2018
it was never there.
you were wrong,
there was nothing.
it was always gray, gray.
and the blots of color you thought you saw were just
refractions of light.
gone and by.

the world is as still as stagnant water,
made of thoughts instead of mosquitoes and bacteria.
the thoughts itch in a way that mosquitoes could only dream.

it was always this way.
no surprise.
humor, maybe even.
the most hilarious word you've ever heard.
say the gray walls, gray floors, gray ceilings, gray doors.
what are you even doing
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