Noise

Its annoying.

The noise from the changing room,

Changing with time, changing with the heart,

Blurring the sound within the room henceforth.

And not only that, I can feel the change

Growing larger and larger with each passing day.

Its resonating outside; Its going to get louder.

Yet what am I to do, what am I to say?

The noise will only grow louder and louder than before.

I can feel it gnawing my skin, piercing my mind,

The static notion possessing my senses,

The collision of sounds, the juxtaposition of ideas,

The sight of nothing and everything at once.

Until all the sounds of the mind continues to decrease,

Giving my mind back to itself

And seeing the light beyond the noise,

I will continue to do what the noise tells me to do.

the erratic nature of the noise; its slow and poisonous nature of the noise

Still, I walk away from the noise, and others look at me

And all that I can say to them is

"I'm really fine."