White Noise Mind

Unfolding in the dark hours of the night Antipathies leak from the mind of the youth Sleep has left the trembling body The brain pending in the antique tempos of lives inexpressible They are noises, vices, barreling in the depths of awareness Neither recognized nor void of remembrance, they converse The various volumes crescendo to high peaks, then subside The youth buries her head into the gentleness of her cushion She can’t make out who they are The disembodied voices grow faint, realizing their effect As the static sets in and wails a constant A flat And the youth closes her deep-set eyes No one else can hear it She never remembers them fully Till the night fiddles its way inside her heart Caressing the crude conversations Trying to listen and love them, She can only make out a few arbitrary words The rest of the noise is tempered, blurred, wrestled, and meddled She longs for a deep, peaceful slumber But the aching of climbing clamors of numbers Elevates towards infinity in the wasteland of her thoughts These thoughts are not hers! Whose are they? They are trapped in a cruel electrifying box for all time And somehow their conversations are still alive Somehow in this weakened mind They powerfully thrive