Normal Silence
I’m like ice cream flavors tangled up.
Again, get up to read the book, jolted.
But nothing got read like nothing got nothinged.
Boohoo.
Forever, howling like spray paint in my head.
When I can’t sleep?
It trickles.
It’s haha!
When I can’t “goodbye,” burnt up.
The buttery feeling becomes a normal silence.
When I can’t sleep?
That’s as typical as mint chocolate chip ice cream trapped in pages of journaling.
And journaling I do.
Normal silence.
That’s not what I’m like.
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