Evolution of Eve | Chaos & The Quiet

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This is prose about experiencing Sensory Integration Disorder. 


I stand here barefoot on carpet, 

the fiber of comfort and home pressed into my soles.

My roommate,

The Quiet, stands with me.

(Originally published  FEBRUARY 2, 2016 on Quirkybirdwords.com)

We watch branches and leaves swing through a wet window.

The Quiet doesn’t echo the cacophony in my mind.

Instead it’s a friend and wraps me in a swathe of emptiness

like a blanket.

It provides comfort in fear,

and its silence feels like a threadbare and button-eyed love

hugged fierce in the dark.

It comforts more than honeyed chamomile

and says absolutely nothing when I need it the most.

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