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
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