it's quiet
the fridge is humming
the tap is dripping
the clock is ticking
my heart is beating
all this noise and yet it's quiet

It is so quiet.
I hear peanuts shells
snapping
teeth grinding
peanuts into butter
between his teeth.
The quiet page turning
Buried do deeply in
"The Scottish Prisoner"
It will be a while
Before he is hungry for dinner.
A bonus!
Turing thoughts inward
to the ever present ringing in my ears.
Long breaths in
and slower breaths out
Allowing the noise to disappear.

A mournful sound of a train
I’m not sure why
Makes me want to cry

Is it saying I’m going now
Like it’s saying goodbye
I might never see you again

Or is it saying i will be back soon
Wait for me
Don’t move

Pitiful mourning in the night
When everything is sleeping
Searing soulfully in the mist

Why does this sound
evoke emotion like this
I get up so it can speak to me

I grew up with it
It’s familiar to this child
A long comforting hug

Maybe it’s the strength
Maybe it’s the speed
Maybe it’s the a far off loud

A need to keep hearing
It's only a whistle
Holding in my memory

I like to sit outside
I listen to the wind swirling
Sometimes I close my eyes
And pretend that it carries me away

I hear voices,
Sounds are striking the inner walls of my head.
Alot is going in my life,
But I'm happy to wait.
I'm happy to wait,
For the things to be okay again.
My mind needs some peace,
I wanna throw out the pieces that are piercing it.
I wanna shut the voices up that I hear,
But I'm afraid to dare.
I'm afraid of being lost in this vast world,
That is full of fake people with fakeness in everything.

I am something you all know well
Some of you can’t function with me
and some of you can’t focus without me

I am a small, timid thing
Easily spooked, should you make a sound
and always flitting from place to place

I am the moment when realization sinks in
When the doors stop slamming
and the heat fueling your anger no longer burns

I am the moment when fresh snow blankets the ground
When the sun shines, but never warms
and birdsong is lost to the early morning breeze

I am the moment when you’re alone in bed
When the world around you sleeps
and you’re too old for the shadows to be scary

I am something that’s never heard, never seen, and never felt
simply experienced
I am silence

- t.h.