Silence

Silence.

There's always something quite interesting about it, I never really understood why is it capable of driving one insane yet so calming. Why are we all drawn to it yet we run away from it?

I have episodes of sleepless nights, not that I'm overthinking. But I feel restless, I don't know the reason. And those days when I sleep, I don't feel like waking up from these dreams.

Silence still continues to astonish me; as the world around me rests I'm accompanied by the silent night. The peace that guides my fingertips across the keyboard or the wind that encourages my pen across the paper. Sometimes this silence inspires me.

Those nights when I don't understand what I feel like, the same silence voices my tears. It's a pity it never says a word.

I miss those times when I was unaware of the monsters I carry inside me. A trauma that never healed, a pain I never really understood. I sought a cure outside, wanting to fit in. Like I need to be fixed before I grow up.

Looking back, I feel sorry for the young me and those that have to deal with me. I never knew nor realized, I was indeed a brat, a brat they thought was innocent and naive. I was blinded.

I still remember the moment when my mother broke the news to me. "They are gonna perform a small surgery on you," she said. I was scared, I felt everything and nothing. It was all silence. I needed to feel something to hope for, something I could hold on to. As they fixed my body, I felt silence. So close.

Being broken isn't all that bad, people pulling me down doesn't hurt me anymore, and betrayal feels like nothing.

Held on to secrets long enough, thanks to this silence I don't have to confess them out loud.