Silence is pressing in..
And I walk to the edge
of life's cliff.. Wondering what
lays beyond, though
knowing my answer
will not be found today.
The silence makes me
burn inside, and I know I will
Not make it much longer.
My blood begins to boil,
And I can feel the beast
within me clawing its way out.
I don't want to be this monster, but
maybe today I'll Care a little less.
The silence makes me more of who I
Am.. or maybe it just makes me
more of who I've become.
Still, I shall not ponder
this thought, for it is a day of silence,
And the silence shall be heard.
I look over to the cup and see
it's not half full, and
Isn't half empty, either.
It's a cup, because we have
defined It as one in society.
The cup is never questioned. It's
always About how empty or full it is.
But the silence tells me it is
Neither. And has it ever really
mattered? *uck the cup.
*uck it's non emptiness,
*uck it's non fullness.
Maybe it never had any mystical
meaning to begin with.
Maybe it doesn't matter if it
is empty or full or pissed in.
Maybe it's just
A *ucking cup with liquid
inside. maybe it's just an
illusion.
And perhaps the silence is
driving me insane. I throw the cup
to the ground, and watch as it shatters..
The liquid spreads rapidly t
hroughout the ground.
I cry. And the silence laughs.
