Sitting by the framed window, watching the indigo sky fade gently and lovingly into a soft pink and orange hue, I engulfed myself in the silence.
The soft and constant chirping of cicadas, the whirring of the fan behind me, the whisper of the wind as it breezed by my ears. The gentle glow of the stars, blinding yet somehow comforting. The warm illumination of the neighbour’s lights, already on so early in the morning.
Words. Something that was always by my side.
No matter what happened and no matter where I was. The words were always there for me, the words stayed, like a safe haven.
When I needed them, others’ words comforted me, grounded me, kept me safe. When I needed it, my words assisted others, kept them calm, protected those who I wanted to protect.
Yet when they wanted to, they could be so harsh, so full of malice and hatred. When they needed to, they provided a protective barrier, one so strong yet so delicate.
When they were necessary, they could flow like a broken tap. Yet somehow, they could be kept away, like a weapon being stowed away for others’ and my own safety.
They were something disposable, yet something that seemed to be a permanent constant in my life. I used those words to express raw and extreme emotion, yet at the same time used those exact words to hide the truth when needed.
The soft swaying of the leaves in the fresh morning breeze overcame my senses as the familiar chirping of the birds filled the area with vibrant sound that blended in with the murmur of the wind, sound of zooming cars, too used to for comfort, the mild chatter as the district slowly opened up, coffee shops and their shutters rising, neighbours coagulating early in the morning for a group exercise or to chat about the latest gossip.
The words spilled out of some, the sounds of small talk and gossip filling the early morning crispness with a sense of belonging. A sense of home. While others stayed silent, the words staying in their minds.
Allowing the others’ voices to breeze over them, no different from how the gentle and delicious scent of various food stalls beginning to open up wafted through the air.
The words used to write these short bursts of feelings, short bursts of the break from the numbness and boredom of everyday life. Words were what held the power to brighten up a day, or put a damper on it completely.
Words were what started wars and fights yet at the same time what resolved them. Words were what kept us safe yet somehow what hurt us the most. Sometimes, words were not necessary, but they lingered in the air no matter what.
Though at times a soft silence was held, the screaming words remained. Words of agony, words of affection. Words of love, words of indifference. Words of pure venom and hatred, words of pure innocence and kindness. Words that showed you cared, words that brushed people off too easily.
At times, words hurt and scarred, and you wish you could take them back. But words were something that you could not take back or disavow. Words were a thing you had to live with. Words were always there, whether it was a good thing or not was of no matter to the universe.
At times words healed and protected, and you wish you could give them forever. But words were something that were everlasting but never permanent. Life goes on and leaves you in the dust if you dwell on words for too long. Somehow words were something that kept company and saved lives, and at the same time abandoned and failed to protect at times.
The sounds of the morning fade into the background as all that is left is words, hanging in the air, whether by a thread or by a thick rope varied from moment to moment. Then again here I was, sitting on a windowsill, next to the framed window built seemingly rather haphazardly right next to the beautifully paned windowsill I had decided to perch on like some type of bird.
Words were the things that accompanied me through life, the things that kept me up at night. With all that, somehow they never faded, even in the silence and peace of the early morning, even as dawn slowly crept onto me along with my responsibilities, the words were always there. Never leaving, lingering quietly despite any situation. Fading yet present, simply words in the silence.
161Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSvNRppMZ3B
