Not dead, though
An escape and a release it seems
Bit it’s a tight grip
so tight every broken piece hols still
still enough to form a great illusion
an illusion of wholeness
but illusion is like a glass-
It can be broken

Dead quiet
silent and still
still as though the world has frozen
utter quiet, time and again
The feeling of euphoria or the lack thereof
it embracess your wholeness
whisks every noise and pain away

But not for long.
The pain isn’t gone forever
The silence won’t last
For it is a calm before the storm
a stillness before the vertigo
An illusion that can be shatterd
Numbness before the rush of pain.