Titanium

The silence is deafening, weighing heavy upon my heart. It wraps itself around my shoulders, tightening its grip around my throat, choking out all attempts at speech. Crying out for liberation from my burdens is useless. While most silence is golden, this one is titanium- stronger than any sound. It forces me to admit that I am weak. I am so weak.
Retaining every emotion that dare to encroach on my attempts at disregarding the sorrow that has entered my life, has done nothing but add to the weight of the silence. My heart is a vault with a seemingly unbreakable lock. Nothing can crack the code. No one knows the secret to opening my safe of emotions. The silence leads me to believe that they would rather leave the vault untouched.
Perhaps it is better this way. Maybe storing my words for a rainy day is the best option. Maybe repressing all my rage, sorrow, and vulnerability is the only way to stifle the problem. But it doesn’t seem so. This roaring silence pushes against my tongue, begging me to speak, begging me to cry. Crying shows weakness. Weakness is never the solution.
The weak are consumed by this vicious world. They are lost in the jungle of malice and spite. They are overpowered by the silence. Weakness is submission to fears and distress. It produces a smell so ripe that even the dead can smell the frailty of the weak.
As this liquid silence grows daily, I search for a draining system. This I haven’t found among my family and friends. I haven’t found it in the council of the elders or in the presence of the wise. Speaking to the silence only fuels it, causing it to grow at an ever increasing rate. But it is my only constant. It is the only one who remains through all the changes in my life. It is the monkey on my back and I have begun to accept and, perhaps, enjoy the companionship.