My Dear Silence

You and I, we do not need to say things aloud;
believing that our minds are screaming so loud.
Believing that we don't need to use words or sentences to convey
our thoughts and dreams but I say them anyway
because there's one thing I've never actually said
that is, ironically enough, one of the things I most dread.
I dread that you have no idea, the whispers that trail through my mind
on nights like these. Where the silence is so inviting and seems so kind.
It wraps it's arms around me like a lover that's too long been away
and I sink my head around the silence, I welcome it's embrace,
much like I would a first love with which I never had closure.
I tell the silence what I wish for, what I don't and silence moves it's body closer.
I feel it's arms around me tighten; I believe at first for comfort,
until it's mouth is near my ear and it's questions now are tougher.
It whispers "what if" and it whispers "be realistic".
My lover, my silence reveals how pessimistic​ 
it must be to keep me on the ground, when in reality
all I feel is myself being dragged down. No sense of clarity.
This lasts for hours and eventually I stare at my silence with dead eyes.
But it does not stare back, it feels no remorse when I cry.
Soon enough I feel a  familiar sense of relief as my body finally succumbs 
to the arms of my dear silence and the pain it causes and sometimes numbs.