You call out to me seeking, searching hidden in the shadows.
You creep up behind me like a lover having an affair.
You follow me never saying a word like a stalker observing his next victim.
You enfold me like a mother does to her newborn joy.
You have no image like my father who created me.
You can make any human feel awkward in your presences like a teenager caught in a lie.
You have many personalities: eerie after the storm, tensed after an argument, calm in the library, energetic after a fight.
Silence…
Most people hate you but not I.
For I admire the way you spread though a room like wildfire.
For I admire the way you can quickly be broken as if you were a delicate glass vase shattered into many pieces by the hands of a young child.
You are to me what a cigarette is to a smoker
Silence.
You are my drug.