quiet

is how i remained

as she told me

she wanted

to die

 

still

is how i stood 

as she showed me 

the cuts on

her arms

 

a crescendo

is how my thoughts grew

to a thunderous roar

in my head

as she spoke

 

and small

is how i felt

when there was nothing

i could do

to help her

 

   ~~~

 

conniving

are those who

desperately want to hide

the turbulent winds

in their minds

 

soothing

are the voices

that aim to convince us

that they are 

just fine

 

warm

are those who

we hold as they 

cry out late into

the night

 

but paralyzing

is the knowledge that

the worst pain

is usually

quiet

 

 

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