The Silence and Her Dreams
In a world where silence is the only one who'll talk to me anymore
I scream without noise, white white noise without a cure.
Within the walls of silence we cut ourselves on sharp edges where
the sounds of ghosts called and tried to break through the despair.
I had held onto dreams that were gone when I awoke,
why had I fallen in love with dreams constructed of smoke?
And the voice flat lines, without memory of its own use.
Memories tell me be quiet, even if it was abuse.
One day I will hit the bottom of this place
and all the memories of us you'll erase
Then not even silence will speak to me from where I lay on the ground
a silence that is so loud, I'll be consumed in the pale forever of his sound.
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