There it is again
So big it creates a physical presence in the room
She feeds silence her cup of tea
She sits on her bed and they converse,
As she stares at the ceiling.
Silence strokes her cheek and gathers her tears.
It whirls around her like a hurricane.
Somewhere there is more than this.
There is noise
There is busyness
There is joy
There are kids playing,
People on first dates, and second dates, and getting married, and having sex
And people doing things.
Silence leaves them alone for now.
Tonight, it’s here.
She falls asleep,
Silence stroking her hair,
Like her mum used to.
All the time there are things (but not here)
by Joanna Woznicka