so here i am, in the most silent place i could find. to organize my thoughts, to facilitate feeling, what do i do, what do i do. do i leave it alone and let things happen? do i bring the shadows out of their boxes, reveal them to the light; make them known? silence seems to be the only answer, the only virtue to my disadvantage. it’s tearing, ripping, lacerated in context to emotion. there’s only so loud i can speak, so much i can do to exert action. it’s a lingering of time, twiddling of thumbs, anticipation to just be deferred. ignorance at its best, sure. but maybe, my expectation could’ve ran true. there’s a mismatched expectation lining up with this reality, coaxing at my brain, nibbling at my thoughts; detailed & precisely. focus should be on other things, but the thought always, always, always comes back around.