Silence is both a friend and an enemy. 

It sings out when you are alone, laying over you like a blanket.

Its presence is either comforting or smothering, yet somehow both. 

It is the empty gap after a risky action.

It is the shared emotion in a finite space. 

It is a salve after a tiresome event. 

It is grating after the loneliness kicks in. 

It is undecided when you walk in the door. 

But it is constant when you are alone. 


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