on speaking up
Silence itself has never been quiet or still, but rather piercing. Deafening. And always in motion. The sound of your heart beating like drums in your ears and waves of blood rushing to your face, now a canvas of visible emotion. The complete chaos of unspoken words fired off like gunshots making their way from brain to mouth, where the bitter flavor brushes your tongue before you swallow them down. And it’s then that you realize the magnitude of these vibrations. The weight of carrying the noise proves to be a familiar burden, and anyone who says they can’t hear, just hasn’t been paying enough attention.
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