There's no room for happiness
in this crowded mind of mine
where decentralized ideations
push and shove to be at the forefront
squashing any small hope for anything else
to move or scream its way in.

Annoying streetlights outside windows
penetrating the all-consuming darkness
that serves as my consciousness.
Illuminating the nightmares with vivid detail.

Nightmares reflecting horror
in gruesome images of conquest,
of demons breaking free.
There are no boundaries here,
in the place I call my mind.

******, suicide, ****, assault.
All of these take place with the
frequency of glass shattering from
a high pitched note,
held for the longest time,
falling toward a field of spears.