Quiet
Quiet. When you open your eyes and the world is still dark
Undisturbed by headlights, street signs, TV channels
You know that everything is so beautiful it's almost like a museum:
Some things just can't be touched.
Quiet. When I touch your hand,
I pretend I am reaching into your heart,
But all I feel is the surface of your skin.
I haven't lost you.
This is important.
Quiet. I remember when I could hear your breathing
Above all the surrounding noise,
The car engines and the TV commercials and the voices
And I imagined it was nothing more than us,
This rhythm,
This peace.
Silence
Silence filled the air like a giant cotton cloud. It left a weight on my chest, and drowsiness in my eyes. Yet the same silence had energy. A quiet buzz of potential sounds and words filled my mind. The energy seeped into me replacing that intial drowsiness with restlessness. Motivation filled my soul with the words I couldn't find, twisting nouns into stories and conversations. Stories I would never write, conversations I would never have, because all that was left was silence.