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Of Silent Nights

Silent. Awake. Breathless. The body writhed and was drenched in sweat. The mind still curdled with fear-filled anger. Tightly clenched eyes spilled the secrets of her tears whilst clammy hands clawed at the confining sheets. There was an ensuing silence that seemed to reverberate the muted scream trapped within, and this tortured quietude eventually lent itself to turbulent exhaustion. A deep, soulless abyss of sleep promptly arrived, claiming the open gateway of her mind.

Awoken by the streaming sunlight, there was a reflexive smile at the birth of a renewed day. A peculiar habit of the heart transformed the cuts left by the yester-night into indistinguishable bruises; the mind was confidently armed with the knowledge that bruises fade and leave only a whisper of a weathered memory.

Thus she journeyed – silent, always awake to her reality and pushed forth by the energy of her despair. And the thought-filled mind still reeled with the breathlessness of night.

Of Silent Nights

vivalavi

Iselin, United States

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  • Fionnegan
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