Searching for answers through these pages of binary,
While my troubles become blurred with help of the winery.
But now my glass is empty and so are my hopes,
In moments like these I don’t know how anyone copes.
My loneliness is amplified with each stroke of the board.
The silence is deafening and can’t be ignored.
It all feels dramatic and I hate that about this.
I hide all the photos so I don’t reminisce.
Though my lips are sealed, my fingers are frantic;
Overthinking my actions and all the semantics.
So maybe it’s time I let these pixels rest,
Put a cork in it and hope for the best.
That’s not dust on the needle, this record is broken,
A repetitive loop of words already spoken.
St- st- stuck on the same old tune,
Echoing off the walls of this weathered tomb.
Carved in the rock are old lessons from friends,
Advice from the wiser in the hopes that I’ll mend.
Whitewashed with stubbornness, faded with age,
Clouded by the haze of my own silent rage.
Their logic seems sound when scrawled on the stone,
Yet the vinyl still clicks with that same whining tone.
The cave feels crowded with this incessant sound,
My mind gasping for air, begging not to be drowned.
I see a speck of sunlight guiding away from the echo,
Suffocating spaces pushing me to escape and just let go.
But my concrete feet fight frayed habits to stay,
Stuck in this cycle of my own groundhog day.
I can hear the birds chirping, counteracting my song,
A beat that’s been listed at number 1 for far too long.
How can I relax when my own mind lies to me?
Concocting a fiction that fuels this anxiety.
I know I shouldn’t panic, I should just stay calm,
But my brain still dances in the realms of self-harm.
A hummingbird heartbeat partnered with stilted breath,
Led by clustered emotions performing their own quick step.
My logic perches on a pedestal, just out of reach,
Staring down at me as I bumble through stuttered speech.
Trying to call out for some peace, call out for some help,
Wishing my lips could form the words my thoughts felt.
For now I’ll just sit, learning the rhythm, adding some rhyme,
Until this beat slows down and I can call my mind mine.