silence

Silence was the loudest person I ever met. It shrieked and screamed and I retreated into a bubble where I found my voice. My own voice. I listened. It had changed, it tasted like dried grapes on winter mornings and sugarless marshmallows. The last time I was there it sang like the bulbul and danced like peacocks in the rain. So, what changed? Autumn hasn't arrived and yet the leaves have already withered away. Why do we talk about things that are broken? Glass, hearts or hearts of glass so fragile, so delicate. Pillows keep secrets that smiles try to hide. My voice keeps echoing and I cover my ears and shut my eyes. But I can't sleep and I can't dream. So I write. Matter is trapped energy. I am matter and I seem to be trapped. It was an infinitesimally dense sphere of concentrated energy. Trapped. And it exploded and smiled at its creation. Something unfathomable and beautiful. I may be that sphere. Like magma I have been under this mud for years. I search for my volcano. And when I burst I will laugh at the devastation. Or will I? And now, I cannot decide between the Big Bang and volcanoes. How do I let go? I don't know and so once again, I try to sleep.