Silence...

 Silence has a weight to it.

The butterfly wings on your cheek.
The soft fur of a bunny just beyond your finger tips.

Silence has a weight to it.

The crush of a weight on your chest. 
The press of walls closing in.

Silence has a weight to it.

Laying next to the one you don't need to say a word to.
Their sigh matching yours as the sun presses against your face
Warming your body and your soul.

Silence has a weight to it.

Laying next to the one you no longer have anything to say to.
Their sigh matching yours as the heavy gray presses against you
Waiting for the oncoming storm to break.

Silence has a weight to it.

The moment the crying stops. The baby sleeps.
The quiet presses against you like a heavy blanket and you sleep. 

Silence has a weight to it.

The moment the house is still. No video games, no TV shows.
The quiet presses against you and you lay awake and worry.

Silence has a weight to it.

The held breath. Thick air pressing in. Filled with love, hope, potential.
The deep breath, then the cry, the release of sound lifting the weight of fear from those who were waiting.

Silence has a weight to it.

The machine turned off. Thick air pressing in. Filled with love and loss of hope.
The last breath, then the crying, their quiet now pressing against those who are left.

Silence has a weight to it.