Silence of Blood
Silent screams are the worst.
These are the lessons we learn;
sitting quietly is the most brutal form of torture. Violence comes from the silence of our minds.
Here is what we see;
ghosts, demons, the free-flow of blood. Our souls scream. They scream the loudest when there is no one to hear.
Do we learn to live and love with the ghouls in our chests? They roar and clang the bars, and we shake dog bones at them, naively hoping to quell their bloodcurdling snarls.
How can we be so at odds with ourselves? We can't even allow ourselves to speak in a quiet room for fear of it turning to a shriek.
Here is what we do; we hide and bury ourselves alive. We cry from memories not fully realized. The only way out is to crawl through the cold earth into the harsh sunshine, dirt under our fingernails, sobbing and shaking, burning in the unforgiving light. Our skin will fall off, revealing our weak, cowardly innards.
These are our minds. This is where we lay. This is where we rise from our grave of flesh, feeling the sunshine and our own salt-filled tears. Maybe they will finally cleanse the wounds we didn't even know we had.
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