The hardest thing in the world for me
And those like me
Is silence.
I ask only for honesty
However blunt or hurtful or harsh
Then I can grieve
I can process
In silence I will invent every possible scenario
In exquisite detail
This doesn’t last an hour, a day,
It haunts, repeats, over and over and over again
Some of these thoughts are so bad they cause physical pain, nausea, headaches.
Silence is torture, dressed as mercy.

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