One dark night, as I was alone, the silence ended for me.
First, I thought it was a high-pitched whining of a machine.
I checked and checked until I realised the sound was coming from my ears.
Day-in, day-out, I found myself driven out of my mind
With the constant screeching noise.
When I was alone, I couldn't breathe,
I would bury my head under a pillow, it won't just cease.
It was my personal haunting.
I couldn't be with myself, trying to mask it with music and joyless conversations.
I couldn't express what this noise was doing to me.
Year by year, as life passed, I felt its grip loosening on me.
Now, it comes and goes like the waves in the sea.
On happy days, it's almost like it's not there with me.
I have since accepted it as part of my being.
When I look for it, it's always there, like a constant companion hidden in the scene.
Still, catching me off-guard when I am struggling.
But I have finally learned to make my peace with it
And bid farewell to silence for as long as I live.
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