There's a riot behind my ribs
a symphony of shattered thoughts
conducted by anxiety
in a room with no doors.

I wear silence like armor,
but inside-
drums beat with no rhythm,
memories clash like cymbals
and fear hums like a distant engine
that never runs out of gas.

Voices I never invited
shout louder than the ones I need.
They argue in my mind
like lawyers with no case,
pleading guilty to crimes I didn't
commit.

I laugh at the wrong times,
not because I'm happy-
but because laughter is louder
than the screaming
no one else can hear.

Some nights,
the noise is so loud,
I pray for sleep to come
like static to a broken radio.
Not to fix it-
just to blur it out.

But every morning,
I wake to the same frequency-
a mind wired wrong,
but still tuned in.