I am too close
to the ever-pressing silence
that dominates the mood of my life.
Eerie jackals pass me in the hall
hungry
for a taste.
Blank stares and quiet skies
interlude
with an electric hum.

Why do I cringe?  
at the thought of a
multitude of realities -

My jungle has no king.
Tender flesh exposed
most delicate in your countenance
I don't know your name
and there are too many of you
to begin with, so I can't end.

Impressions upon the mind
carved deep
with chisel and talon

Release me from this depth
too thick, like a humid morning
with an empty white sheet
staring back across the way.

That quiet sky speaks
no more as I wander
near the shore

Thunderous emptiness
rumble and control me

In the distance, an echo
returning from my silence.

*I am too close.