Echos and voices

Another night I’m sitting in the corner. I’m hiding from the world that surrounds me. I’m not here and I’m not there. The echoes don’t stop talking over the music. Getting lost in the background drowning in the mud that’s sliding all around. Can I have a minute to breathe?

The smoke fills the air while we chase away the screams. Fleeting voices whisper secrets that were never meant to hide. Singing loudly from a muted pillow hiding in the fear of being heard. Feathers fall in the crimson pools below. Never should have been so quiet before it was time to go.

Now we sit here together but in places so far apart. Nothing being said but stories being told. Too many times I’ve been alone in a room with so many people. Another night lost to the anxiety that keeps me from my peace of mind.

The chimes are ringing.

Published by Snowy Owl

There was a lot more written here before. Then I saw it was irrelevant. I am just another person with an autoimmune disease and spectrum ”disorder” who is highly sensitive to their environment. I thought I would write a few things down, so here you go. Swim at your own risk!

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