Muffled - True Story

ii.

They had a survivor amongst them but damn were they oblivious about it.

—

Bloodshot eyes and a war-zone for ears.

I am ruined. Scattered. Slashed.

That darned voice from the deepest hell sounded so vivid an-and purified... in a bad way.

Purified in a bad way.

And even though the present hurt — hell it tore me apart — I couldn't help but ask my conscience for a nano-second about the dreaded future.

And soon enough, the agonizingly screechy voice molded itself into a reply and my eyes flew open.

This was something I am supposed to live with. No questions asked. No answers muttered.

This is going to become my heavy shoulders.

And this was eternal.

Where'd I go?

Would I go searching in the universe and ask saturn to know if he hears it too?

Bounce from star to star and slide the northern lights to see if they had any help to offer?

Or would I take the crunchiness of the autumn leaves as this monster's take on them?

Whatever might be the answer, one thing's certain for sure.

It'll ricochet past every one of my futile attempts and burst through my muffling hands and up to my mind, every effing time.

—