So silent
Were his thoughts
only breathing reminded him
That he was there
Not bad thoughts or sad ones
Just layered on one another
Quick Quick Quick
in rapid succession
Insulating himself from the world
Just for a brief moment
allowing his breath
To be the punctuation
That controlled the rhythm
Of his mind
Like a writer
Allows grammar
To shape the flow of words on a page 
at 1589315240000
- Zakarya, petegutz2, AndSheCame, CurrentNobody and Fionacatherine like this
