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The storm flashes white strobe lights
illuminating the soppy landscape
Thunder rolls the hills
crying in loneliness

Alone tucked under the constant strumming of grandfather clock
I am burdened
Weighted down by tornado thoughts
swirling twisters in and out

There is a haunting silence that slices,
in between the booms of night's tantrum
a silence so thin,
the cracks in the hardwood whisper low
They speak of chilling steps lead by ghosts
of wandering hopes, gypsy breaths and thoughts untold

The fire shrinks, flames frightened by the storm
the lights flicker, electrical surges spark
skin crawling fear inches closer
wrapping it's claw up my back

Panic comes with each heave of air,
the silence hovers like spirits crossed over
my eyes wander the four walls, pained in glass
anticipating the boom
The sudden strike that fills empty room
lighting shattered
Thunderstorms conjure ghostly thoughts
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Hmm?
What was that noise stirring in the darkness of my room?
Is that a voice?
Steps?
Or maybe it's just my mind?
Morphing the sound of the fan into mumbling whispers.
Shadows becoming my bottled up fears.
Distant screams from the past.
Leaving me troubled,
and alone.
And as the flashes of light subside,
and the sounds are covered by the chirping of summer birds,
I'll forget my terrors of the night.
Forget the vision caused by my rotten imaginations.
Forget the scent of carrion pouring out of my head.
Maybe it's just my rotten imagination
s a m Jul 2018
The million thoughts that you couldn't speak out,
are the loudest noises in mind.
Druzzayne Rika Feb 2018
Round and around
trying harder to let out a sound
in all the noises
I will never be found
I'd really like to astound
but I have no such current account

I look at the people crowned
not a single frown
smiles surround
Along them
I try pretend

Sentences silver and gold
choices not too bold
the ideas carefully framed
the visions all very tamed
nothing I had in mind
just to please their time

Speak all the roses
hide all the thorns.
Asominate Jan 2018
Lost in my thoughts again
They're dark and I can't seem to hide
Nightmares are speaking again
The lurk around to hunt me down

"Don't cry, Jojo, it's all ok."
These lies I tell myself each day.

Why THEY say that I'm a friends
About me, much, they do not care
When I need them the most
They are always never there.

"Don't cry, Jojo, it's all ok."
These lies I tell myself each day.
theseliesitellmyselfeachday
thehiddenwriter Jan 2018
I was standing somewhere alone,
watching things come and go,
listening to the noises and voices around me,
that moment was constant,
as nothing felt different,
no person or thing made me hold my breath a moment longer,

but then you came,
like a wind,
which turned into storm,
and somehow
you cancelled all the loud noises,
you blurred all the excessive frames,
it was as if you hacked my mind and
made me focus my everything on you.

I don’t know what happened in that moment
but it was different,
and for me
love is something different
something that mesmerizes you,
amazes you, and something that you hold onto.
January 9 2018 almost 2 pm and
I am writing this somewhere in the corner
PJ Jan 2018
Within us, is a                                                          voice
that no one ever heard off.
A sound wanted to go                                          out
Yet its forbidden
and not allowed


For we are always ask                                         don't
Don't speak your mind.
It's what they always say
now you're silent
and you cant                                                                 be
someone you are destined to become

Still we continued to be silent
For we are                                                                     afraid,
Scared of what it can do
that's what on our mind

The little voice inside us
only wanted to be heard
Now we want  it to                                                       drown
into the abyss of nothingness
and stay in that void
for we are afraid of what others think.


Not knowing  its potential
it stayed there
stuck with all the other                                                    noises
Noises that always rendered
and deemed it as useless
Those noises kept you chained                                   with
the guilt of voicing it out.
Dragging you further down.


Creativity and all of                                                  your
wonderful imaginations
cant come out for its locked up
for you are                                                                   SILENT
and always afraid of what others think,
always waits for the approval of others.

Now you kept it all in
You will never learn to fly
because you wrapped your                                              VOICE
with fear and guilt.
Be strong always , its hard to voice out and its always a risk but its a risk worth taking.
Zane Gorham May 2017
Sitting in a quiet place.
Listening to the ideas blossom in our minds.
The noise never ending.
When our thoughts and ideas dissipate.
They're eventually forgotten.
They were never spoken.
Billions of unsaid words floating around us.
Residual in the mind or not.
Theses words, they travel somewhere.
Whether these concepts were significant or the split second reminder of unwashed dishes.
These thoughts fly someplace calm.
That place, that realm is truly quiet.
This is a response to another poem I read called Silence by Ashly Kocher
WhereverYouAre Dec 2016
Precise, rapid movements across 
that specific area
Muscle memory expertly pressing
spots that fuel emotions
Responding aloud, making the faintest
noises with every touch
We text
Our melancholy passion
I wake up nightly just to ***
I start before I'm there
It might seem strange
But as I age
I really do not care

I wake up to the alarm clock
My back's sore and I ****
My hips are screaming meanies
My chest hurts near my heart

I stumble to the bathroom
Like I did two times last night
My knees are cracking loudly
My head don't feel quite right

My vision is all blurry
My right arm is all numb
Three fingers are all tingly
I've a funny feeling in my ***

My shoulders ache like crazy
I sound like rice crispies with cold milk
I stumble and I bumble
I move as smooth as silk

All of this together
Means I'm alive for one more day
Getting old is ******
What more is there to say?
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