A Craving To Be Mocked

Very abstract : talks of a harsh memory, blended into my current existence.

The silence whispers, louder everyday,
As it cries, the dual entity, fighting against itself,
It is a hidden whim, a hated memory, 
The nourished silence,
Struggling against the light.

The jeering solitude in it,
The big black sky, vast as it is,
Starts shining too bright,
And the faded memory that lies,
Aching to be forgotten,
Happily surfaces and surprise!

The emotional strings,
Tethered to these cheerful bright smiles,
The ends hidden,
Were happily cuddling in that very
Fierce dark night.

Author's Note

Would love to hear your interpretation of it! :)