The Silence of Waiting

By C.R. Doolan

Silence has a strange way of conducting noise.

The soft ticking of a clock turning into a sad ballad

about the fear of wasting time.

The unheard beat of a heart increasing in tempo

as it thumps anxiously alongside tapping fingers.

The air that usually fills and empties your lungs 

catching in your throat as your breathing 

becomes an inconsistent instrument in a lonely 

orchestra.

How can these sounds become so intense that

you fear your ears may burst and bleed?

While simultaneously wishing that maybe they 

would so that you can stop hearing all together.

The silence of waiting is held within these sounds. 

Sounds that go unheard by the busy.

Sounds that go unheard by the happy.

Silence is impossible for the broken.

For the damaged.

For the hurt.

Silence is impossible when your mind is your own 

worst enemy.

Constantly screaming, reminding and shaming.

Throwing every regret and mistake in your face 

like it didn't hurt enough the first time.

The silence of waiting can be deafening as life as 

you know it freezes, only able to defrost and 

continue after you hear the sound of a phone 

ringing.

Or the ding of the email you have been expecting,

Or a car pulling up,

Or a jingle of keys,

Or an opening door.

But it's what lies within that frozen time that hurts 

the most.

Being unable to begin a task by the fear of it 

being interrupted.

Being unable to talk,

To move,

To relax.

Being stuck in one place on the couch, your ears 

straining, your blood pumping, your mind whirling 

trying to come up with a million scenarios for what 

might happen next.

Just waiting for something.

For nothing.

For everything.

Maybe waiting isn't silent. 

Maybe silence doesn't truly exist.

Maybe once the louder noises are tuned out we 

are able to focus on the small ones.

The forgotten ones.

The ones the busy never has time for. 

The ones the happy might be able to appreciate 

with a quiet mind.

But I'm not sure I'll ever be able to experience 

true silence.

But I do hope my wait is over soon. 

By C.R. Doolan