White Noise

It’s just noise to her, all of it, no matter how wordless or soundless, none of it makes any sense, it all is a confrontation, a white noise, deafening the beautiful sounds there used to be. Now there aren’t any more beautiful sounds.  Nobody has a clear voice anymore.

Everybody is tainted with smoke.

She means nothing by it, she doesn’t want to hurt anyone, she just can’t break the bonds. There aren’t any more reasons or excuses to defend her, and she accepts it. But nothing disguises the pain, and nothing can cover the pale definition of tears.

Everybody hurts sometime, and some know how to embrace it. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t know how to explain it, but everything finds a way in somehow. Through the channels, straight to the core. And nothing ever finds its way out again.

Nobody knows her secret, the one held closest to her heart. But even she can’t make out the words over the noise. Everyone together makes so much noise in her head, she can’t hear herself breathe. Maybe she stops, just to feel it come back again, making her feel alive. But who is alive? Who really understands what it is to live your life, and make it worthwhile. There is so much hurt, who can make it worthwhile?