A bemused self looks within,
Having heard a bit too much, the new-found silence seems unnerving.
Yet cocky me has hope.
Hope for words of pearls to tumble out,
Hope for blood and tears to spill...
Hope for far fetched reactions to potential nothing.
Someday the chatterbox shall come back...
or so I hope.
Words are in the making... they will be made soon.
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