By TLW   

Silence lingers on the edge of broken promises. I hate the way it sounds. Like the silent sob of a broken heart. The empty cavity so hallow and exposed. Where once there was a beating heart now shows a gaping hole. Bleeding out.... Crimsom pools across the waxy floors. The silence is the blackness that shrivels upnyour soul.

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This poem is a thought in time while my mind was racing.