the mind's recesses

Cover Your Ears

Dedicated to _singtothesky , since I was inspired by her poem 'Sleep from bottles'. You should read it.

***

Deadly choruses of screeching
Resonating against the walls
Of your aching skull.
"Turn back," they say -
But you can't turn away.

Dark stars visible when you squint.
Kneeling on wet tiled floors,
Your eyes are wide, heavy.
Sleep raking fingers through
Your tangled hair.

Clutching your head in your hands,
As though the pressure will
Make the shouting stop.
"Help!" Repeated,
Again and again.
Help? How could they ask for help?
You can't even help yourself.

Your breathing is ragged,
Like the torn paper that you swallow
In the hopes that it will create
Enough paper-cuts to make
The yells fade.
It's too dark:
You can't breathe.

You can't breathe,
And wonder:
If you cover your ears,
Will the screaming stop?

Leaning against closed wooden doors,
Tears pouring (and ignored).
Knocking on the wood;
"Are you okay?" and
"Did you fall?"
You say nothing,
Your eyes fixed on the wall.

Empty pill bottles on the floor.
A bitter taste on your tongue
And at the back of your throat.
Raw shouts rippling through
Your head.

"Shut up!" you scream,
As though it will work.
"Please, shut up!"

You're losing control.
The pounding on the door continues,
But you can't hear it anymore.
They ask,
"Are you breaking?"
Are you breaking?

But something is changing.
Something, something
That watches at the edges
Of hazy consciousness,
Until you realise:
The screaming isn't as loud as before.

As the soft hum of sleep grows,
The screaming quietens.
Your muscles hurt a little,
But it's okay,
Right?

Hands cover your eyes,
Darkness thickens
And you fall forwards.

Lying on wet tiled floors,
A smile frozen on your face,
Limbs twisted and mouth foaming,
Your temples are throbbing.

If you cover your ears,
Will the screaming stop?

Hands pressed against your ears:
The screaming reaches
A sudden crescendo,
And then stops.

Finally.

But for some reason,
The silence terrifies you
Even more.