Where the Noise Finally Ends

A poetic reflection on finding a stillness where the past no longer echoes.

“Where the Noise Finally Ends”


I don’t think peace is loud—
it doesn’t arrive like fireworks
or knock on your door demanding to be let in.


I think it slips in quiet,
like morning light through a cracked window,
soft enough not to scare what’s been broken.


No chaos chasing me down the hallway,
no memories clawing at my ribs,
no words I wish I could take back
echoing in every empty room.


Just… still.


The kind of still
where my chest doesn’t feel like a battlefield,
where breathing isn’t something I have to remind myself to do,
where silence isn’t heavy—
it’s gentle.


I imagine it sometimes—
a place inside me
where nothing hurts loud enough to drown me out.


Where I can sit with my own thoughts
and they don’t turn on me.


Where love doesn’t come with conditions,
and leaving isn’t always waiting around the corner.


Just peace.


Not perfect.
Not untouched.
But calm enough
to finally rest my head
without bracing for the next storm.


God…
how nice it would be
to live there
for a while.