NoIsE

It fills the heart, the mind. It drains away all others and gives way to nothing more than nothingess. It eats up all the thoughts, the ideas, the scopes, the life, the fullness, the emptiness. There is nothing and there is everything. The world spins and spins, a top whirling to the pace of one's own footsteps disappearing as the tide washes them away. Craziness, craziness, hard headed stupidity calling out from the depths of the unstable universe that one lives in and crawls in, begging the light of day to stay just one more day before the darkness consumes like wild fire.

The hearing impaired, dying, bleeding. Soft tissue disintegrating into the world's music, feelings, conjunctions, and objections. Things one does not comprehend, the world toying with one filled with the wish to live and breathe yet there is nothing else to look for, nothing else is lost, but one is lost and will never be found. The reality of the fantasy, the fantasy of reality, squishing, mixing, fishing together a hatred, a love, for each other and not for the other. Silliness, seriousness, the world is topsy-turvy, it is straight, it is quiet, it is deafening.

The screams die, the squeals liven, the palms fisted, where the white butterflies and purple dragonflies hover over the blood spilled by the mouths of uknownity, anonymity, obliviousness. Touch the floor and the sky, existence to its utmost, fading away at the mere sight of each other, and of the reason that the life one lives does not exist entirely. Entirety at the fullest, oblivion as the rightest.

The ears bleed to hear, the words yet to be spoken are lost in the hiatus of life that lives in the tree world that one lives in. Insanity, sanity. Confusion, comprehension. Raise the hand of light and the foot of darkness, together they love and hate and prevail.

This is wonder, this is strange. This is the reality and the dream of all that dare to dream. This is paper and this is ink. This is the earth, soft as after rain has fallen. This is the sky, after dawn breaks and dusk settles. This is quiet noise. This is a person. This is a personality, a characteristic hidden with the most care.

This is me.