In Between Silences

You could tell me you wished I didn’t exist but in between silences, I would hold my own hand and wipe my own tears. You could tell me that you give up on me but in between silences, I wouldn’t give up on myself. You could tell me you hate me and all my life choice but in between silences I would hold my head high and continue my life without you. Because in between silences, I stay in my bed and listen to the sound of my heart beating and in between silences, I cover the fragile skin on my body with literal and metaphorical band-aids and pretend they don’t exist. And in between silences, I think about you and listen to the sounds of my fingertips and in between silences, I give up on this and I give up on you. Because in between silences, my mind drives forward with the chaos ingrained in every step I take. And in between silences, the sound deafens me. In between silences… In between these uncertain silences, I’m okay again. When the silence starts, I know that I am not okay. In between silences, I let this angsty poetry flow out through the palms of my hands through the pen and into the paper. In between silences, I listen to the sounds of uncertifiable laughter.