An Awkward Silence.

Another shot at an amalgam of prose and poetry.

Hope you like it.

P.S. I've realised that the less I write, the more I mean to say. Is that normal? Do norms even exist when it comes to this stuff?

I hope not.

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An Awkward Silence

"Last season, the trees spoke.

The birds woke.

My life shook,

And I broke."

Those are the words my mind pieces together as I lie awake staring at the ceiling.

Honestly,

I can't really see it.

And finally

I'm away from the city chaos.

In this silence all I can hear is footsteps on the ground; sounds of myself walking through my past.

I’ll never know why my life plays in my head all the time. I’ll never know why only bits and pieces of it stick around and make me so unsure. But I’ll always know that the only thing I have in this life is myself.

I just wish that was enough.