the night is loud.
the world should be sleeping, but all i hear is noise.
the crickets and cicadas i loathe are outside sounding off. the clock on my nightstand has never ticked louder. i hear every move my cat makes in the kitchen.
the night should be a time for peace and rest, but it's anything but.
my eyes are glued open, and my heart is beating louder than any drum i've heard. my mind is screaming at me to focus on my mistakes.
it's too much.
too many sounds are coming from too many places. i can't focus on anything except for how badly i want it all to stop.
the night is loud.
YOU ARE READING
exhale
Poetry"can i exhale for a minute? can i get this out in the open?" a collection of feelings molded into mediocre poems
