Silence is


LOUD

When no words
Are spoken

I’m stuck on the verge
of meandering outside
or wandering inside all the time.

I need to know if the sun shines
and if the moon still glows.
I haven’t seen the stars in a while.
The trees are in disguise,
and leaves don’t fall down by my side.
I haven’t stepped outside.

I need to know if my lungs pump out air
and if my brain still responds to stimuli.
I haven’t visited my heart in a while.
The emotions are in disguise,
and tears don’t fall down my eyes.
I haven’t stepped inside.

Falling*

                          That’s the sensation.

                                                     ­             You don’t feel the *pain
                                                          ­                            or hear a slowing heartbeat.

You see
lights,
pretty
little
fairy
lights.

You start to


remember


all of the

things
you
lost.
The
places
­ you
hid
and
how
to


escape.


You
want
it
to
just
                                                          ­ end.
Maybe
you’ll
finally
find
what
was
always
missing.
Maybe
you
won’t.
Maybe
you
will.
You
may
never
ever
know.




You have formed
a suicide pact
                                                            ­                          *for one.