A lump in its throat
Its brain spinning jarred
I sit calm and empty
I’m wrapped in sky, and a single cloud
It hunts for prizes as it chases the dawn
Light hits its eyes with satisfaction
My nights spent chattering away
Never a word said or heard
Strange magics work on its mind
It thinks its ice can be melted with blue light
My heart craving for anothers beat
But cold tricks me into an empty heat
Rythmic beats, splashing rain and silence coexist
In the dead nights black it hears colours
Blacks on my head, minds focused on my sun
The source held in my hands, I in darkness, alone
It was 3 am. I sleep with a sort of sensory depravation so i had my blindfold on, and since back then i didnt even know bone conduction existed i had my big ass black noise cancellation headphones. Man they stunk bad after a year of em. I used em to listen to audiobooks and a thunderstorm white noise machine(myNoise summer thunder storm). I was connecting with randos on omegle(moved onto dismegle now) because none’ve my mates were on and i wanted to talk(as i always do). Couldnt find a single fuckin person so i felt bad, alone and all that. Thats when i wrote this. Didnt even know i COULD write poems. Turns out anyone can, if they’re honest to their feelings.
TRO