(no subject)
The noise comes in, crowds me out of my brain. At first. the sound of children laughing mixes with the sound of rain. The sound of the children fades out and is replaced by the sound of gunfire. The gunfire remains at a steady pitch as the rain fades. Now I hear the sound of people talking, laughing, screaming, crying. Reminds me of medicine, they wanted to get better. The old woman in the room next to mine sounded like she was being cooked alive in her bed. The sound, I can't shut off the sounds of their voices. When I'm all alone in my room I can still hear their voices screaming in my ears. I know that I am to blame for letting them in. I want to get better myself. I'm not running from anything, I'm just trying to free myself from their sounds. If I don't, I'll become accustomed to them and that will be the end of me. The sound of rain, pelting down on boxes holding the dead. The rain mixing with dead children. What I see, what I hear. The whole place is an insane asylum. A screaming shit house. Gunfire off in the distance. The bodies are falling, crying, trying to get better, doing anything to get well. And you know how bad the emptiness feels when you're full of it. They fill you with emptiness, and then they come to get their pay. They want their pay, but they don't want what's coming to them. It never fails. My weaknesses are always strong enough to knock me to the ground. My weaknesses are the greatest weapons I have when I turn on myself. It won't always be like this. I'm getting better every day. Maybe someday I won't want, I won't be such a sucker. It's all one big insane asylum, a screaming shit house. The sound of children splattering, sounding like gunfire. For every voice, a bullet. For every scream, every prayer, every day, annihilation inside my room.