it's too quiet
i can hear the ticking of the clock in the kitchen even though i am three rooms away
i can hear the creaks of the floorboards in the attic even though no feet have moved over them in over three months
i can hear the sun talking to the moon as they light the skies of the world simultaneously
i can hear the flutter of birds' wings outside the window
the rustle of leaves on the trees beyond it even though no wind blows
i can hear my eyelashes geet each other and then say goodbye again with every blink though i don't have to blink at all
i can hear everything
but the one thing i want to
the life i want to
because Edward walked out of mine
because of what he could hear
and what i couldn't
he could hear my heartbeat
my blood travel through my veins
i couldn't hear his
because he didn't have either
and though he wanted to hear mine...
something i know no matter what he said...
he left so he couldn't anymore
and so–though i couldn't possibly have heard the traveling path of any man's blood–my life wouldn't be too quiet
that i wouldn't live it without the sound of more than my own heartbeat
without the sound of another
or any
he left me so i would hear noise
loud and boisterous
like a man's love and passion
and sweet and innocent
like the children's' laughter that might have been born from it
it's what he left me for...
a life of beautiful noise
but not what he left me with
not at all
because after he left...
the silence of his footsteps away from me the only thing i could hear...
someone else came
someone else whose heartbeat i couldn't hear
and who took away mine
something that Edward never wanted
and wasn't willing to take from me himself
but that he did
because he left me vulnerable
so that someone else could
before they left me too
with this quiet that's far too
and far too loud
because wherever Edward went...
it's too far away to hear it
or me
because i can't make a sound