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Poem

Sound come rolling at me
from
              where?
Its almost identifiable,
grabbing at my life force,
    trying to stir me
from
              what?
Logic dictates
I'm the only one
who can know,
but no matter
    how hard
        I rip into my skull
I recall nothing,
    its been purged,
        wiped from the blackboard.

I grab at these surreal noises
locking my claws deep
                     into nothingness,
so elusive 
    and antagonizing they are,
as if something's
           tapping me on the shoulder
that's not there,
Choir like sounds
   smacking me in the ears
        causing them to bleed,
                        and fiend for more.

I lope towards 
where I think
their coming from,
  it must be silenced
            caressed,
     throttled,
                    held,
taken with me
          for it almost seems
    part of me
          lost or left behind.
Is that why it feels
           familiar and yet
                 unknown,
like the true heart of me?

Not knowing is the worst
  knowledge of all,
like trying to chew
a nice peice of meat
              with no teeth,
so on I search,
    getting no closer,
           and constantly being teased
by the melodic,
                sinister sounds
just out of arms length.

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