You never really know what it was like to feel air
Or smell oxygen
Or taste the simple blandness of your tastebuds.
You never know what it’s like to hear silence until it grows a tongue.
Until the roaring from the absence of sound consumes your concentration.
You can’t describe what it’s like to experience a sensation not meant to be sensed
Until you can.
Until the silence is ringing in your ear
And the absence of color is the only thing consuming your vision.
Etta James would rather go blind – but I’d much rather be able to see what is mine
Even if I have to see it walk away.
I can’t stand to see someone who chooses to stay if all they will do is be silent.
I guess this is what it’s like to be in the presence of silence
When it grows a tongue.