The silence is screaming. It’s an invisible fog clouding my judgment and burning my eyes with its icy touch. It’s so dense that I can’t breath without it expanding in my throat; a fog so solid that it chokes my airway with its endless emptiness. I can feel it erupting inside me, smoldering in my lungs and freezing the blood in my veins. Condensation sweats on my skin as the fog condenses around my heart, hardening as lead into a shield around the constricting muscle until it’s pulsing against the constraint of its protection. A Lead so heavy that it drowns my heart in the pit of my stomach. How can something that is so much nothing fill my everything with so much pain? Why can’t you hear the screaming?