the days rush by in a stream of
screams and shouts as the word
“loud” is given new meaning
between the roar of a
car engine to people talking in the halls
between classes and sometimes
the noise is overwhelming
providing me with a sea that
you cannot float in
all you can do is sink to the bottom
and drown in the intensity of
everyday colloquialities
until you’ve reached the bottom and
you can suddenly process
that the noise is fully
drowned out
it’s just you
and everything is

quiet
a stillness, a fog of
silence but not quite silent
a white noise,
the way you hear your
heartbeat in your ears
and become startlingly
aware of your breathing

it is a quiet
that grounds you
and reminds you of how
much you love being alive
how wonderful it is
that you can breathe in
the air and feel your
blood pumping through your veins

it’s the sound of a turning
page, the classics and
dystopian novels alike

it’s the crunch of leaves
under sneakers on a walk in the woods,
the soft snap of a young
flower stem that
you needed a closer look at

it’s the whispers of a
blanket being folded up,
the silencing thought that
it may never be used again

we may find these moments
hidden in the cracks of
our day and give us a
breath of air in our drowning sea
of daily uproar

the quiet is like
walking barefoot through grass on
a summer morning, feeling the
dew between your toes
and reveling in the
sunlight casting
calm shadows across the lawn

it’s almost enough
to make the noise
bearable