Trying to compress the air that I am breathing before it gets to my lungs, so it won’t hurt
Listening to “the silence” of the rain drops fall.
The wind moans. But at least cicadas and birds are not screaming again tonight. Like every other night.
Words hurt.
No truths, just hurtful phrases.
I see and I pretend not to see. Forgotten.
Lost in the quietness
of the rain.
