Sometimes, I sleep walk bumping into my own walls
The box seems much smaller in the dark
When lights are low and the music is barely an annoying hum
That penetrates my one remaining salvation…the silence within

And there are always those questions that never see the break of dawn
Or the answers that would set me free from shadows that follow
– like an antagonistic playmate
There is no commonality or harmony between the lines of this slow song

And the beat goes on and on…

Alone, is a place of comfort; a zone of complete solitude
and a sense of flawed security
Fear of this, and anxiety over that push the limits and the envelope falls…
– passively to the floor

And I continue to speculate when the fog will lift
and my spirit will once again ascend beyond
– the cracks and splintered edges
But the voices in my head incessantly scream to loud
and I can only laugh shyly at Mr. De Niro’s version of insanity
While looking in the mirror – attempting to recognize myself again

Repeating the same line over and over only from a different angle
While my eyes never conceal the truth or the darkest fear of providence
Those spider webs that tangle coherent thoughts
– and get lost in translation
Slip beyond the guarded words or gestures I wear so unenthusiastically…

©2021 TrilbyYates