In the darkest corners of my quiet nights,I stare deep into my darkest thoughts.
A mixture of feelings I experience, maybe anger - happiness or sadness,
But confusion is the result, difficult it is any signs of clarity to have.
It's complicated like searching for a key ,fallen to the ground at night,
And how is it possible to find it , without any light but natural eyes?
Then it clicks into my mind , maybe I should look for light, I really need it,the key.
I text her ,she is my therapist, maybe a lover, or a friend.
But disappointments comes unexpectedly, mostly unwelcomed,
No replies, neither phone calls ,just the silence again,
But this time,it's a warfare,it's a wish to never have started looking for light.
Sometimes it's better what we have,than looking for something that will take it away,
Our own silence can be more peaceful,but we barely feel comfortable in it,
Other people's silence can be harmful,that we force them to fill the gap ,
Only to become their slaves,but what can we do with silence anyway?
It's a beautiful poem that explains the beauty of our own silence,we hate it ,the silence . We try to force others to remember
us, validate and talk to us but when they fail we become confused and even sometimes hate ourselves.
