If you tell someone you have thought about death,
about hurting yourself in any way, they get freaked out.

The Quiet is much better;
Quiet doesn't judge you or tell you that you're wrong.
Quiet doesn't look at you funny
or put you in counceling.
Quiet sits next to you on the train
and doesn't say a word.

Trains are so frequent in the deserted town of Helendale,
I think that is how I will die-
I'll saunter out onto the track as the train blows its monsterous whistle
and the crossing guards lower ever so gently.

They won't see it coming, only I will.
I'll see the headlight on my fearless face
and yet we all know I will be terrified.

Don't show my fear,
keep my chin up,
my teeth clamped,
my eyes straight toward my target as if to say,
"come at me beast, show me what you are made of."

The sound will overtake my ears
and the rocks will shake under my feet.

3..2..1. Why is it black?

I see a figure approach in the distance, walking slowly.
It's my old friend, he came to visit.

I call him, Quiet.