Silence, sometimes I hate silence. It seems to confirm all my deepest fears as there are no real answers I am left with a void and just my imagination to fill it. Then there is a silence that calms me, which I would call stillness because warmth is still present, and nothingness hasn't won any ground. There is peace.
I find it hard to sleep with silence. Then in stillness I can shake off any ghosts of past days and remember present day peace. There I find rest and security. An embrace that shakes the universe within my heart yet quiets the universe around me. There is nothing that I crave more when I am discouraged or stricken by pain or suffering. That grounding caress of love and stillness such a lovely event eludes me. It has been years since I found such peace.
Yet the craving for blood and pain has surfaced once again, and I question, "how deep will this one be? Will I cut to the veins?" If I could punish myself for breathing I would. Instead I am punished for that which I am not.
