Nicole Surginer writes

Silence

I’ve grown restless as 

peace evades my solitude.
My madness wore the tread.
Emptiness molds her tracks,
deranging the apathy.
My mind escapes me,
falling into the pits.
She rummages through the
graveyard, stumbling upon
skeletons while wading
through the ashes.
She awakens the ghosts.
They ensue me now through
the sludge of my brokenness,
in scattered shatterings.
Piercing screams echo through
blackened hollows and I embrace
the innocuous cacophony.
For far greater terror thrives
in dead silence where
loneliness is the loudest sound.