The white void of words once spoken,
Words trying to be said,
Words that have not yet been thought of
Although it takes away our speech,
Some cannot help but feel comforted by it.
It feels as if it stops time-
But it doesn’t.
The world still moves,
and soon the white void starts to fade.
It starts to rot,
The white turns to black,
but silence is still present.
If silence is white,
What is this?
This is permanent
Nothing here ever happens again,
This time, time has stopped-
For you at least.