Write to yourself. write to them. bite down on the silence. chew it like bread. make sandwiches. put your pain between two slices. and then eat. feign nourishment. but the hunger. that cavity remains.
sit. sit quietly with furrowed brow. imagining yourself as the subject of the scream. hands pressed to your cheeks and waivering in full color between rage and impotence.
write of life. and people. and places they have shown you. of pieces. and how they scatter when you dare to breathe. of moments. and how the smallest ones always leave the biggest impression.
write because the night has come bearing gifts of silence. underneath the hum of the music you insist, it's always there nevertheless. write because you're going numb and this is the only way to feel that you have left.
write because you're going numb and though it's so much easier you'd rather the ache than this nothingness.
write to yourself. write to them. chew the night like bread. make a sandwich. put your sadness between two slices of it and swallow. ingest the loneliness. and pretend that the hunger is quenched.
write. write because the hunger still goes on unabated. write because broken isn't all you are. write because silence isn't your favorite song. write. write for the tomorrows that lie and never come. for all those tiny moments that take so much.
