People are afraid of quiet.
The silence when nobody
Knows quite what to say
That sends shivers up your spine.
When you’re not filling up the darkness
With blathering words,
When you let the nothingness consume you—
Holds a certain warmth inside you,
A dark, calm, warmth,
A dull fire.
Silence is a subtle balance,
That creeps up
Like an intricate feathery vine
So that you don’t even notice
Until everything has changed.
Like a veil behind you,
Touching you with a gentle softness
And pushing with unseen fingers
The thin skin
Of toughness and puffed up chests,
The real darkness
Of hatred and crushing fingers
That shrivel a soft silence.