Endless Chatter
Do deaf people hear their thoughts in words?
Do blind folks dream in color?
Do desert dwellers dream of rain
and Eskimos of Summer?
If they're no cobs, who makes their webs?
What keeps huge ships afloat?
And don't you find it creepy, too
the sideways eyes of goats?
I'm sick of listening to myself!
That voice inside my head,
incessantly rehashing
the buried and the dead.
How do people meditate
and silence all their thoughts,
while mine's in constant chaos,
fighting battles long since lost.
I pray for peace and quiet,
but the talking just goes on
and sometimes throws in pictures
like a slide show all gone wrong.
I fear that even death won't stop it
and I will not be free,
bodyless but chattering
into eternity.
That would be Hell to be alone
with ME for company,
with nothing to distract my mind
like books or a TV.
No wonder people turn to drugs,
maybe that stops all the noise,
but one can't stay drugged up constantly,
can't survive in such a void.
I
long
for
sleep.
Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2008
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