Ever feel like the wind is speaking words
You can almost hear?
Howled syllables that give you shivers
And dance upon the air.
Just a trick, my imagination throwing a fit.
And yet…
Is somewhere there?

The radio is so loud;
My father's voice sounds
Like thunder.
The car is too squeaky;
The cat meowing sounds
Like an obnoxious alarm.
My own thoughts are too noisy;
My voice sounds
Like waves pounding on the shore.
It's like someone turned my
Sensitivity levels all the way up;
Like some form of torture.

Shannadoa, laquadesh. Batta-anna, mlick ka dek.

Philly fickle ******,
Nickle dime dash,
Dangle ****** bongle,
Bickle bockle bash,
Sunny sun sunshine,
Beady brain bright,
****** lovey Mondays,
Matthew mum might.

There's a reason why
Its called the concrete jungle
When the crossing gaurds whistle
And the trains rumble

But nothing brings out
The similarities more
Then sitting in a tunnel
And hearing a car's roar

Or sitting in a tunnel
And hearing the howl
Of six police motorcycles
In a motorcade prowl

I hear the motor humming in the background

I hear the chirps from the morning birds, and even they don't sound enthusiastic about the time of day

I can hear your mom scratching bug bites on her arm. She scratches, digs, and scrapes, as if she is expecting to find something.

Bottles of sweet tea sit rattling next to me, clanking with each bump in the road, with each jump of my heart.

I hear brakes screeching to a slow stop, with a desperateness that reminds me of my darkest moments, my cries that no one witnessed, the tears that fell without acknowledgement.

The sun has yet to warm the world this morning, but it still casts its light on my arms, making my sunburn tingle but reminding me I'm alive

I can smell your great grandmother's perfume from when she hugged me so tight, reminding me of a family I never had.

I can smell the ocean, feel the grit of sand in the car. No matter how hard you try, we all take a bit of the beach home with us. It's salty waters one day blend with our salty tears.

But all I care to hear
Are your sweet shallow yawns and breathing. As long as you're breathing that's always all I need.

I think I could very well tackle anything if I knew all the time that you were alive, content, and happy.

I feel the need to give you an apology, for what I truly do not know. But whatever it is, I am genuinely sorry. Please, never let yourself go. Learn to love yourself as I love you.

The sky is crying, just like me
The clouds keep screaming, out to me.
They boom and roar and bang against my roof,
I wish I could calm them down the way they made my stress and tears disappear.