[Untitled]

And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

The silence of the empty house is deafening. I listen to the hallway, waiting for something to crash. Someone to scream. A laugh. Anything.

Nothing.

When no sounds erupt, I content myself with blaring music. The manufactured sounds seem forced. As if I am trying too hard. No matter how high the volume goes, it cannot compete with the sound of my silence.

I am suffocating in quiet. Gasping for interaction in a cacophony of nothingness. There is desolation in this decibel-lacking, untenanted, abode. The music rages into the void. The void rages back. The music tapers off as silence creeps back into my life.

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again

There is a certain maddening sickness going on. A perverse illness, desecrating the logical processes of my brain. As the quiet overtakes me, I can feel me go insane.

In this sadness, I am spiraling.
The darkness, my old friend, wraps me in velvet cloth. Constricting me and dragging me down.

As I am enveloped, the only sounds are in my mind. It is screaming in harsh tunes. Crying on about life. There is a war waging inside, one I am sure doctor’s have fancy names for, but names I have no interest to hear.

I am reminded of being a little boy. Cocooned in my blanket, hiding from the silence, and it’s friend. Darkness. My tiny frame fitting in the tight section underneath my bed. My shoulders pressed between floor and bed frame.

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

I am the antithesis of Peter Pan. I try desperately to take knife to the seams holding this shadow to me. Anything to get away from the cacophony of nothing bombarding my psyche.

“I miss you.”  The words fall broken from cracked lips, to no one in particular. There is no one to hear them anyways. It is me and my mind in this room. No one else is here.

Without noticing, I have begun to pace around. Swimming figure eight circles in my emptiness, treading tired trails into the ground. Like a goldfish trapped in a small bowl. Again and again, I pace my line.

The screaming has begun. I can’t remember when it started. Blood has begun to coat my lips. I pace and scream obscenities at my God.

why have you forsaken me
In your eyes forsaken me
In your thoughts forsaken me
In your heart forsaken, me oh
Trust in my self righteous suicide
I, cry, when angels deserve to die

I am being swallowed whole. The tread has burned itself into the hardwood floor. The screams dissipate, only after my voice is gone. I fill the void left in the silent wake with fists banging relentlessly into surfaces. More blood. More pain. The heavy thud of my heavy hands can keep the silence at bay for only so long. Before my knuckles begin to give way and break.

I don’t know when the door was locked, so I just begin running at it. I heave my whole body into it. The thud has become muted. The blood pooling. I look around at the room I have been trapped in. An eight emblazoned on the floor and blood on the walls. There is a lone mirror against the last remaining section of unbroken wall. Looking in it, I do not recognize me at all.

Covered in dried blood and drywall. I look emaciated. My brown eyes have bubbled into black. My hands are mere meat claws now, with untold damages. Hair matted by sweat and pain. The music fades away. I try to scream out against the silence, but my voice is long gone.

I am Ruination incarnate.

I strain my ear to the hallway, begging for reprieve. Someone. Something. An act of my God.

ANYTHING.

I beg the silence to unshackle me from my sadness. To let me go. This lonely room in this empty house is too much for me.

My stomach hurts now, and all tied off in lace
I pray, I beg for anything, to hit me in the face
and this sickness isn’t me, and I pray to fall from grace
The last thing I see is feeling
And I’m telling you I’m a fake

A beeping crashes against the silence. It erodes the walls. My polyphonic savior.

I open my eyes and breathe in the sound of life. Cars crunch gravel up a street. A chest heaves softly next to me. The room no longer bears an infinity mark of sadness on the hardwood. As my eyes adjust to the lone mirror in the room. I am rebuilt, along with the dry walls. Drenched in sweat, my hair stays matted to my face. The blood is gone. For the moment, so is the pain. My heart beats loudly, reminding me I am still here. I am still alive.

And finally, I am awake.

Songs used, in order used:Let it Be by The Beatles, Sound of Silence cover by Disturbed, Hurt cover by Johnny Cash, Chop Suey by System of A Down, I’m a Fake by The Used

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