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.
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 5:47 AM UTC
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.
A piece from my latest book on Amazon named Letters from Silence
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