security blanket

here comes the quiet again.
the one that drifts in on the cold.
before nighttime dreams run babies ragged
in their cribs, with no one there to hold.
when heavy breaths lapse over sleeptalk.
now they can hear everything, and nothing.

here comes the quiet again.
the one that stuffs mouths with chalk.
after hollow lessons have been learned
in the wake of mindless, tired talk.
when dust cements atop memories
from times that meant everything, and nothing.

here comes the quiet again.
the one that you no longer feel.
while the safety bed you lean on creaks
on a discontented frame of steel.
how you cowered in folds of silence,
holding onto everything and nothing.