White Noise

White Noise

feel it

cutting across, leaving

red lines behind.

Counting them all one more time

I find I am just another cracked barricade

with the rust bleeding through-

the best of fault lines,

but no one else was at fault this time.

She tempted me with White Noise

made from overlapping thoughts

and unclear voices.

Why must I always be at war with myself?

My ears bleed from the sound

yet I break in it’s absence:

I, myself, am a contradiction

but

one could be driven sane from all the nothing

so

i gave it its own form of life

and

I sharpened her knives

and

I held on to the White Noise

and

I forget I once craved the silence I leave behind.

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