No more noise
Vibrating my skin
Resurrecting memories
Silence drops
Like a lady in agony
Needing my antidote
But this antidote
It makes noise
It illuminates my skin
All the memories
Nausea--my stomach drops
In this hell, in this agony
Voice wrecked with agony
Where's the antidote
To stop the noise
To stop myself from leaving gashes in my skin
I can't stop the memories
My sanity drops
The rain drops
Build, making clouds hover in stuffed agony
Like tears bursting, they just need an antidote
The thunderous noise
Red droplets on my skin
Who knew pain would fill these memories
Gods, I miss the days when memories
Didn't craft tear drops
Didn't wreak agony
The thought of you--of home--was my antidote
All your noise
Soothed my quivering skin
Now it makes me drive the blade harder into my skin
Trying to escape these memories
Pretending I can expel you like a cloud does rain drops
This existence of perpetual agony
Death may be the only antidote
But I don't think I could stand the silent noise
I miss your noise, I miss your skin on mine
Thinking of you my stomach drops and I fall into agony
I'll never release these memories--I fear they will be my only antidote
YOU ARE READING
Static [manxman]
PoetryA poetry book telling the story of two scientists falling in love. [Trigger warnings: suicidal ideations, self-harm, substance abuse] ~Rose Coven Chronicles | Companion book to 'Rinse'~ [COMPLETE]