Literature
Madness of whispers
It’s all too loud, but all to quiet at the same time. But my lips never move; sewn shut with black thread with my own, shaking hands. It is my mind that is the culprit! It always is nowadays, thinking far too much about things it shouldn't. We've been down that road before, for you see, my mind is a betrayer!
The thought appearing in various forms, intruding when it wishes. But it never shouts, it whispers. For, what is worse; shouting as loud as you can so the enemy can hear you? Or is it that little whisper into their ear, which may or may not have happened. Had it even been said at all? What is it they meant? Is that what they said?