sometimes silence can seem so loud
you leave in a cloud of anger and aftershave and that's when i can finally let my guard down. the knot of anxiety in my chest loosens and i can breathe a sigh of relief. the house feels like a safe place again, and I begin to rebuild everything that's been torn down in your wake. sometimes when I'm walking home and from down the street i see the car still there, I detour to the local park so I won't have to suffer you any longer than necessary. anyway, the sturdy trees and quiet breeze in the air provide more comfort to me than you ever did. I'm looking for a treehouse, sturdy and strong and filled with sweet memories of time gone by. you are a twisted, unstable oak in the midst of a thunderstorm, threatening to come crashing down on the life I've built for myself and instantly ruining everything. after an hour or so, I retreat back to the street corner. no car. it's safe. I walk, and every step feels lighter. I unlock the door, and I feel that little bit more free. I am opened up to the sounds of an empty house, and it feels amazing. time to start rebuilding. sometimes I wonder what would happen if you knew how much I hated you. truly, purely, wildly. would the world implode, or would this finally be the thing to shut you up? after all these years, I would've thought you'd lose your voice by now.
