Staring at the ceiling in darkness,
Tossing and turning on my bed,
Desperate for some sound—any sound—
I listened to myself breathe;
I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat.
Aside from the evidence of my living,
All I could hear was total silence.
What could be wrong?
Even the creatures of the night are usually not this quiet.
I stared at darkness as it stared right back at me,
The sound of silence, deafening.
And even though I couldn’t hear a thing, I still listened,
Hoping that silence could tell me something, anything at all.
Funny how I crave silence during the day and detest it at night.
I didn’t want to listen to my own thoughts.
I closed my eyes and opened them again,
Blinking away the stinging sound of nothingness humming in my ears.
And just like that, I heard silence reaching out for me,
Pulling me into her lukewarm embrace.
Silence hushed my thoughts.
She sang me to sleep, and I felt peace wash over me.
Jasmina Sodamade is a storyteller, poet, and unabashed lover of language who aims to not just share stories but to also share a glimpse of human experiences. They live in Nigeria.
Featured image by Haley Truong.
