A space to delve deeper

Silence is a strange void.

A chasm of nothing

With an endless bounty to explore

The depravity allows wisps

Of tangible thought

To echo through the barren halls

Of a tragic mind.

If only I could find it.

Only fragments and tears

In the lining of the fabric.

I sow seems that seem

As though they have seen their end

And I allow their demise

All to willingly.

Silence aplifies what is not

And focuses on it with relentless scrutiny.

Lest you forget what you can't remember.

Feeding on fear. Anxiety.

Unsettling without a sound.

I cannot speak for those

Who have not witnessed my silence

But I believe it is more tranquil

When voices are heard

And the subtle tones

Of the quiet underbelly of the world

Are far from my fragile ears.

In short.

I long for the sound of too much noise.

The soothing racket.

For the silence.

There's that sound again

That irregular beat

That I can seemlessly mimic

Like a metronome

Out of time

Yet in perfect sync.

Like a booming base drum

Of a drunkard in the crowd.

It beats loud and proud

And to the beat

I sing aloud.

Songs of joy and admiration

For the mere sound produced.

It is my heart

Sunny days

Are funny ways

To antagonize ones self.

To stare at the fluorescent light

And lose some of yours.

As you realise,

Responsibilities take their toll

And have control

Of your every move.

So you stay indoors

Instead of more

Frivolous pursuits.

Oh well.

If I had a time machine.

I would take a missed opportunity

And let the butterfly effect

Engulf my life.

Flapping it's delicate wings

Of vibrant colour,

to change the vibrancy

Of the skies above me.

Starting a hurricane

In a single motion.

A drop in the ocean,

Creating currents

And changing tides.

Some small adjusting,

Will stop me lusting

Self medicating,

Meditating,

In a comatose state

Trying to recalibrate

My fate

My hopes

My dreams

Through muted screams

That only I hear.

Screams of fear

That disappear

Into the crisp night air

More than I can bare

I feel it in my chest

No time to rest

The smoke enlightens me

It's frightening

The discovery

Surely one must assimilate

Work of the greats

Before taking a plate

To serve themselves

Surely they must delve

Into the recesses of their mind

See behind talented eyes.

Look towards the words of the wise

A picture perfect

Person

Portrays pretend

Prejudices.

Purposefully paralyzed

In place.

Panicking,

Persperating,

Imitating,

an imaginary image

Of an idioloistic self,

Up on a shelf.

A pedestal of

Perpetrating,

Petty values.

Validating pointless

Points.

What's the point.

To be perceived

As pretty or powerful.

Paranoia all that you know.

Forever perplexed

With what will come next.

The picture perfect person

Forever chasing where I belong

Chasing serotoin

In the form of a song

Or getting along

With someone who can't get along

Or progress from chasing a thong

Or a short skirt in the street.

It's not that I'm complaining

I just with I was better at maintaining

The relationships I had

But I'm still glad for what I have

And perhaps more substance

In my life and my bloodstream

The teenage dream

It's hard to say

Welcome to my house.

What's the plan

What's the direction

Always feel I need to be

Impressing somebody,

Anybody who looks my way

But can't understand if I'm

In distress or in pain

What do I mean?

Well let me explain

All these options

That you're throwing my way

They're so fucking tame

So get out of my lane.

How the hell can you claim

That you have my best interests at heart

When you tear me apart

Before I can start

Making decisions that are smart

Why don't you just give me a break

So that I make a stake in this world

So that I take this world in the palm of my hands.

It's in my reach

Why the fuck would I teach

Or listen to you preach

Like you're in my head

Like you felt the existential dread

As you lay in bed

Hanging on by a thread

I'd rather be dead

Than try this again.

All I need is support.

No need to retort

Like this is some kind of sport.

Let's shape his life

So he does it right

So I'm seen In a good light.

No wonder we fight.

All I'll have is resent

Unless you repent

Unless you see my side.

But I don't see changing tides

More like calm before the storm.

Instead of reform.

Bridges are burning

And you can be my burden

Because the tides are turning.

With the world before me

Treading on sacred ground

Where ghostly whispers call

Travel the empty roads

And the Hallowed halls.

Tipping my hat

In the direction

Of what is no longer there

Upon further inspection.

I fail to grasp

The fading memories

As they evaporate

Right before me.

But a train ride away

But a phone call away

Yet nothing to say.

She makes black look colourful.

A glowing irrediscent darkness.

That I want to dive into

So it can swallow me whole.

Eyes that I've seen my whole life

When I closed mine for the night.

Every glance is an adventure

I've been awaiting since the last.

Rearranging and changing my heart strings

Playing slow melodic vibrations

They echo in our bubble.

Where the world never was.

And all there is, is you.

The sheets, a shield from the struggles.

The patter of rain acts as our metronome.

Loves rhythm against double glazing.