The silence echoes loudly
Ringing through my head
Driving me to madness
With its incessant shrieking.
I’ve never liked the silence
and it has never much liked me
I think that’s why
I often write
about whether I am heard.
Because I always try to fill the silence
and it always tries to fill me.
I have been raised into silence.
Maybe that’s why it
bothers me so.
I cannot stand the silence that lingers
On the lips of people who claim to be so loud.
There are things we do not speak of.
Or, at least, that’s
what I’ve been told.
We must be silent,
On certain topics
Regardless of how loudly
And I cannot stand to just stand by
When there are things that must be said.
So while the silence fills us all,
I’d rather we fill it instead.