There's times I feel I'm going insane,
things that shouldn't affect me, do.
They bubble and boil within,
until I feel them at the brim,
ready to burst out into the air,
into the ears of those around.

When my madness consumes and spreads,
its path is full of concealed destruction.
I scramble back and try to mend the fractures,
shards that resist to fit back to together the way they once did.

And so I seek blind ears,
Ears which listen but do not speak,
Ears which listen but do not judge,
Ears which hear me but do not see me,
Blind ears.