The Comfort of Silence

Silhouette of YouWhen words wither of comfort.

I snuggle into the warm blanket of silence

and sip a cup of tears

Until I curl to sleep, holding onto the memory of you.

Published by

Karisa Moore

I lost my son to suicide. Each day since, I commit my day to turning the page and continuing to write my story. There is no deeper grief, but I know too, that there is no greater hope than bringing life out of death. I offer each page to you as a testimony that there is hope for abundant life!

3 thoughts on “The Comfort of Silence

  1. How do we forget? No, we don’t. The hole stays as it is, it doesn’t become smaller every year. No, they lie when they say time heals all wounds. It doesn’t. What time does is to make you grow bigger each day until one day you become too big that wound relatively looks smaller than it is. But then again, there are times you stoop down and you still see that big hole as it is–it doesn’t change. It will never fade. ‘Cause if it did, then we might not have loved at all.

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