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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2093728
Awkward silence is a constant reminder.
The silence speaks,
So loudly that it peaks,
The things it says.
leaves me feeling bleak.

It forces me to put up walls.
Higher then the grandest halls.
Larger than the hoover damn.
They are dropping like Niagara Falls.

I blow them down once again.
There is no more material in the brain.
To use as a mask when no one will look.
It washes off as it starts to rain.

I pick it up, desperate to put it on.
The thing falls apart until it is gone.
I sit within an enigma, wrapped as a riddle.
From the dusk onto the dawn.

When will the silence end with me?
Does anyone want to agree to disagree?
I want nothing more than for it to go.
Can someone find strength to suffer thee?

Maybe some day I will know.
Until then my mind will grow.
The breath within will become weak,
and the covers will be thrown.

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