Alone in a rarely empty house.
A substantial house.
The walls are talking,
a constant clamor pulsing in and out.
It pushes at my ears,
demanding my attention.
Yelling, arguing, fighting words
slam and swirl around me.
“You’re not…”
“Too…”
“You can’t…”
My mind exuberantly adds more to the chaos.
“Stupid…”
“Pathetic…”
“Idiotic…”
Do all walls talk?
Is it truly quiet anywhere?
I’ve gone from one place to the next
trying to escape this chaos,
without success.
What do you do, though,
when the clamoring racket is inside of you?
-Cynic Ninja
