Silence the noise
that smothers your sound
eating up the voice
in your conscience.

I am left
with strewn scraps of irrelevance
filling up spacious contents of my mind.
Like a swarm of locusts
they eradicate old memory
and truths
that once furnished my sense
of life and purpose and existence.

I’ve become hollow.
Every question comes back an echo, desperate,
and taunting

Everything inside of me,
everything I once thought I knew
is as empty as the night sky
diluted by city lights
where all I can see
is artificial glare.
The artifices of life
This mimicry of the real.

But what is the real?
When you can’t feel yourself
when you’ve been numbed
from being pelted everywhere, by everything.

All of this stimuli drowns out
your every sensation to the point of exhaustion.
My senses are saturated
unable to take in anymore.
How am I supposed to feel
Beyond my own borders
And be expected to feel
Someone else, something else?

I’m blinded,
cut off from
this web of feeling
this cord they call empathy.

I’ve shrunken away in a corner
protected by the only thing
I know I must have left-
my own existence,
my own awareness.
But it taunts me and torments me.
All the while I must fight
this tide of noise.

I must sift through it
in search of the gems of truth
too indistinguishable
to recognize.

I must find the key
that unlocks the door
of this self-incurred prison
caging me inside myself.
The key that brings me back
to light
and to life
beyond simply my own.

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