PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It’s three A.M. I’m wide awake. Laying in my bed, hearing the silence, remembering the day.
The silence, so loud and obnoxious. The ringing noises all caught in my head. With silence comes voices, and tunes and words, like I said before. It’s easily the worst sound in the world. Even the requiem trumpets or mariachi amateurs don’t sound as horrible as silence. The haunting and dark drips of noise become uncomfortable because of the reoccuring thoughts they give me. Soon enough, I’ll have had enough of this silence in my life and resort to turning on my sister’s I-Pod, full of Disney star music and other sugar-pop sonatas.
I can’t hear anything that may present that I’m actually alive. The only noises I hear are the drips from the sink downstairs and the clicking on my keyboard as I write. Not even a wisp of wind, or a nightmare next door in my sibling’s room. My fingers fidget and body won’t relax even though I should be tired at such a time. But I am tired of the sink, I’ll tell you that much.
Maybe if I actually try and shut my eyes, I’ll dream of amazing things. Things like a cave full of colorful trees. The light from the sun passing through the pink leaves and making a painting on the cave walls a mere meters away. Murky water with an endless bottom of rainbow colored rocks. Pushing you into the lake and watching the water turn clear. All we need is a little clarity. Soon, the trees will all be green and this beautiful reverie will be fooled, and the silence will be back. Morning Sunshine.