Warning Lights

Sometimes I like the silence, listening to the world around me breathe,

The soft murmurs of electricity behind the cold walls,

The bang of the radiators as the temperature drops too low.

I like listening to the clock, moving almost too fast for comfort, contemplating how much time I have lost in this moment.

I like hearing the wind brush through the trees.

It puts me at ease knowing that that they have one another; the world would be a lonely place if we didn’t view nature as alive.

I like the passing of a car or two in front of the house; it lets me know that there are others out there when I feel most alone.

Sometimes I close my eyes and try to recall as many wonderful things as possible.

In times where the present day proves too much to handle, memories always acts as an old friend holding my hands through the storm.

I like the fact that I can hear my thoughts, that there will always be a voice during darkness and seeing your name light up my phone reminds me there are people out there who care.

When the world begins to rotate with unstable madness I like to sink to the earths core.

Pulling a blanket of warmth around me, blocking out the stress tornados tumbling through the walls of my mind,

Sometimes I stay silent to unwind.

I talk too much. My mouth has long forgotten what silence tastes like.

Sometimes I don’t want to talk about my problems, not because swallowing them are any easier, but because facing my accomplishments are long overdue.

The outer shell of my body often struggles to stay still, rattling pulses of turmoil under my skin until slowly I begin to crack.

The doctors call it my warning lights, a lighthouse telling my soul at sea that depression has come to visit.

So I go silent.

I like the silence, listening to the world around me breathe.