i am filling
this pervasive void
with music
with poetry
any self serving
sense of distraction
from being alone
with my thoughts
sealing up the
insistent whispers
with wax until
the inside of my
skull is a honeycomb
leaking poison
rather than the
biblical flood of
easily triggered
saturating my soul

the cold has
settled deeply into
this new reality
bringing a sick
sort of clarity
rereading the past
only to truly see
the futility of
being shut out
while desperately
ignoring how each
attempt at bridging
the chasm was met
with utter disinterest
as anxiety twisted
heartfelt intentions
into a parody of
the words themselves
vilified for asking
for what was once
freely given then
suddenly denied

ryo plays softly
a mellow dream for
an insomnia ridden
fool with barely
enough dreamsplinters
to pierce the veil
between a world
i do not belong in
and the child who
once wanted it all
a slave to emotions
so raw and endless
they dye each thought
until it is impossible
to separate the two
and i wouldn’t
change a thing
because despite the
clamor in the
honeycomb and all
the misinterpreted
words i know one
thing in certainty

i tried
i failed
but goddamn it
i kept trying
even as it all
crumbled down
now it is
the music
the poetry
hastily spackled
wax and poison
just like
it always was
a fool telling
sparrows poems
whispering to
the ceiling
feeling everything
too deeply in
the silence where
i belong


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