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When the world is
L O U D
and ALLLLLLL
CONSUMINGGGGGGG
Like the fibres inside your head are being ripped apart
one
at
a
time
And your thoughts aren’t thoughts but layers of noise
All being laid
One On Top
Of The Other
Do you
Close your eyes
Become small
So that you might
Fade
And instead become nothing
Invisible
To the naked eye
But sometimes even nothing is everything
And you can’t possibly be nothing
Because that would mean
You Don’t Exist
But everything is everything and nothing is nothing
And why do so many people exist
And why do they not seem to care
About the overcrowded blitzing bullet
I care
About the person touching my arm
The loud chatter
The Sardine Tin Experience
So I turn around
I face the corner
Play make-believe
Pretend like a child
That they don’t exist
It is all pretend
You are the only one here
You are EVERYTHING
But when your brain is your brain
And you, a mere mortal spectrum person
Sometimes to pretend is to hide
And sometimes pretending is hopeless and dumb
So I soundproof my booth
So that the noise
Is my oyster
Not the world
Then the world is
Quiet
But selectively so
And at your preferred volume
The endless lists
The ones of your own creation
Lull you
Soothe you
And this corner is now refracted sound
Containing only beats
Rhythms
Voices
And the sardines get to live another day
And so do you
And all the spectrum people
Because of the lists that you don’t cross off
Because of the meticulous needle
That threads the thread
Always Sewn By You
Made by anyone
The ism becomes an is
The pause a play
The list a fist
Of triumph
All because
You play them
And play them
And let them play
