Euphoria lost in the complacency
of white noise
drifting beneath the cracks of empty spaces.
What was normal
is now like the rhythmic sweep of wipers
on a cracked windshield.
Yet, there is a certain peace and calm
in the sound of raindrops
drumming against the rearview reflection.
Stop
the bleeding
the insanity
As the brain is bombarded
with winded words
collapsing like a house of cards.
And the dull pulse is accelerated,
as deafening emergency sirens arrive,
screeching like banshees,
to mend your broken ambitions,
for a price.
Still, I can hear the beating of a heart,
under the frantic din of the voracious noise.
© Connie Song 2020. All Rights Reserved.
