(Real photo from my local park)

A real killer isn't the one with a knife, it is the one that stabs you in the heart. The real killer licks up your blood and smiles as you die, the real killer keeps your blood in a jar and watches your torturous screams as you squirm in pain- but you do not scream. You can't scream at all. The pain is too paralyzing- you are used to the pain that is daily, though it still traumatized you, that is shoved into you. The pain of screams and horrid, unloving remarks. No one but me knows that pain. No one. I am being tortured everyday, murdered everyday just to struggle to breathe and be killed once more the next sunrise.
Silence is the most violent presents. Silence lets you think, it gives you so much space to think of why you regret your life and-........ You hate silence- you are terrified of silence.
Silence
Silence
Silence
Silence
Silence
Silence is the killer.
You can last a little longer.
Hunger isn't the matter.
Crying burns.
So don't cry.
If you cry, people will know.
People can't know what happens to you.
That is my secret. My twisted,dark- deep dangerous secret. He will never know- no one will ever know. The blood running down my chin is all to tell, though it does not speak- it is
Silent.
Silent is violent.
Silent kills.
Violent
Kills-
The Silent violent killer- that is silence to me..