Each mind is a mosaic of mental scars that are at once both exposed and invisible. The most profound depictions can convey a wealth of information in the pauses between sentences, yet many of us experience a crippling fear of hearing ourselves when we delve too deeply.

Hell is not the noise of eternal flames or the piercing shrieks from lost souls carried in its wake; it’s the reverberating stillness the quiet air holds after smoking ash falls.

Janie Lyvon