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A poem written in the deafening quiet of 3am.

The quiet silence of a secret soul
Imagined noise
To fill the space
Just the steady sound
 of breathing in and out
If not for my breathing
How would I know I am not deaf?
I suppose if you are not breathing
Being deaf is the least of your concerns

I am alone
I am a secret
I am in hiding
I am running from sound
Give me silence
That beautiful silence
That holds no bursts of laughter
No cries of pain
That gray silence
Glowing, monotonous, empty
I sink
I sink
I sink into the mad silence
This raving mad emptiness
This state of being that is
 only definable because
 it is the absence of something else
Strip away the sound
Build my silence

Potential noise is abundant
An unleashed cacophony to my left
An untested percussion to my right
I sit motionless
I sink
I sink
I breathe
I leave my reality undefined
I am a blind man
Ready and waiting
To trip
Do not define my reality

Sound, knowledge, awareness-
 an affront to my wishes!
 Yet friends of my well-being
A shame
My well-being
And my wishes
Are separated by a brick wall
 of silence
I carefully crafted it
When my identity was lost
 I found myself a mason

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