Silence

What I crave, what I seek, what I think, what I breath,

None of it is silence.

The eyes that watch me, the ears that hear me,

They all scream.

Silence isn't real.

Not yet.

There is a predictable moment of silence for all

But until then,

Others mimic silence,

Quelling their voices and holding their tongues,

but each breath makes a noise.

Each shift makes a noise.

Silence is a false pretense, something untruthful.

Humans are loud, 

Instances in time that make a brief explosion

Before being forgotten

Like fireworks.

Silence isn't real.

But it will be soon.