Sometimes silence is the song a caged bird sings, the fading echo the flailing of a broken wing leaves, as it creaks beneath the weight of life’s hammer blows.
Sometimes silence is the shrill scream rushing air makes as it leaves a pierced balloon as it runs amok in its death throes before nestling limp like a wet sock and disappearing.
Sometimes pain will break you and the linger of unrequited memory will haunt you, seared as it were in the very fabric of your mind’s skin.
Years later in a season of re-memory you will remember - how uneasy laughter masked worry and how in the midst of the milling, madding crowd it was you, yourself and a thousand broken things.
This, is why I write For peace, for clarity And for my seasons of re-memory.
For the Day 15 Prompt at NaPoWriMo