Cold, naked blurred
Dustless, maetallic tang
White, like a dying star
Creak , clunk , clink
Small laces swaying
against the chair in sync
Beating to the rhythm of....
Patt patt patter
Beige clunks rushed
First to the wall
And then the latter whe...
Buzz buzz buzz
Murmur , crackle , snort
Buzz ! buzz ! buzz !
Patter , patter, clink
I cant even think!
Clink ! clunk ! buzz!
Murmur ! swish ! slam!
Patter ! Gasp!! Buzz!
Whale! weez ! cry!
The sounds of another
About someone trapped in a hospital, stressed of the outcome of a loved one and with all the sounds around them they struggle to think straight untill they hear the cries of other people .. scared that they might share the same fait
My life is divided into different rooms
as is my heart.
For as long as I remember,
from the time I used to care for decorations
to the time I am too lazy to clean up.
From the moments of sweet solitude by the window
to the clinking glasses and winking eyes.
The room belonged more to them
than to me.
And I often found it unsettling,
as if on a night
when I would be hiding under covers
not knowing what to fear,
someone would knock at the door
and with that knock, would come a pair of shoes
and a set of clothes, holding a person
whose face, motive or aim
would soon be inconsequential.
And slowly she would drag me
out of each room,
snatching away each memory that she touched,
knocking down my bookcases filled with my escape,
tearing away the wallpapers
behind which I hid my unvoiced cries.
The doors would be shut on my face,
leaving me out in a storm on a moonless night,
leaving me alone to face all that I didn’t know of
taking away all that I know.
— The End —