suffering breaks the silence, it does, it does. my mind’s gone quiet, there’s a quietness in stability. what do you do when all you’ve known your entire life is the sound of suffering?
i went to therapy and stopped having things to talk about. i opened my notebook, i had plenty to write about, little to whine about.
but the suffering, it changes its tone, living alone. i know i can feel still, books move me to tears. i can be moved, i can feel. but there is a quietness, it’s all so quiet.
i relish it, this silence is the sweetest sound.
stability is the strangest feeling after having known turbulent seas for so long— like hopping off a boat after the most treacherous of journeys. you can still feel the rocking of the ocean, even here, on solid ground. a phantom of the past.
but that’s all the past is, now: a ghost. i remember when i cried, night and day, for what i have now.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 