July, My Girl, Why So Noisy?

HNB
thewrytr.
Published in
4 min readMar 10, 2017
Original Drawing by Artist Eddie Rivera of Tampa, Florida

All this noise
If you only could hear it
You’d know

All this noise
If you could only stunt it
You’d grow

All of its’ ploys
Like brand names
And man-made snow
All this noise
It overthrows

All this noise
Can hurt the soul
All this noise
From down below
Perhaps the ceiling
Ya never know
It takes flight
Then kills
Regardless of where
The source is sewn

All this noise
A throat that’s sore
Plastic finger tips
Bite marks galore
A gag reflex
That has ceased before
All of this noise
Leaving you poor

All of this noise
Will ebb and flow
People will come
And they will go
Cause people change
Of this- we know
And change breaks hearts
A type of pain so slow

All of this noise
Will dent your ears
You’ll find more comfort
Swimming in fear
Cause at least then
You know of what you hear
Rather than venturing into
A new world, unclear

All of this noise
Will disguise itself
Creating chaos
And subtle welts
The vicious type
Which others can’t see
But you know that they’re there
So aware…
you watch them bleed

All of this noise
Espousing from everywhere
Chanting concerns
About your hips and hair
Your skin, your curves
A set of lips so insincere
Injection filled
Cause reality can seer

All of this noise
Befriending your mirror
Telling you fibs
That hit so near
All of this noise
Crawling inside of your ears
Is this psychosis my love…
Or is there some sanity here?

All of this noise
It will devour you, my dear
It did so last week
As it did so last year

All of this noise
On speaker release
Slapping you sideways
You aim to leave
Yet you also aim to please
But that’s what it wants
a Machiavellian disease

All of this noise
Piled right at your feet
You either step into it
Or you run for reprieve
All of this noise
This chattering
Auditory hallucinations
Or is this just the truth
Your psyche speaks?
Are you hearing things?
Or is this your inner voice?

All of this noise
Is leaving you without a choice
and you’re unemployed
never-mind the money
you’re about to be destroyed
priorities, my boy

All of this noise
Where did it come from?
Knowing the answer to that
Won’t get the job done

All of this noise
It’s stolen from you
Call the authorities
that’s what you ought to do
This noise belongs in a jail cell
Solitary confinement for sure
Yet you’re the one who’s imprisoned
Lying, begging from a barren floor…

All of this noise
So many decades of yours
Peace stolen from your mind
And your heart has been on tour
Over worked and over booked
Trying to figure a way
to make it through this world
Balancing the noise
and responsibility
Trying to give this life a whirl
But it just won’t work, my girl

You’re gonna have to turn it off
I’m just not sure how that happens
Cause sometimes it creeps on in- so soft
and only the noise is game for laughin’

Just a whisper
Like a friend
Like a mother
Like a twin
Like a trust
You’ve yet to find
Like the baby
I thought was mine
Like my nephew
Sweet as he’ll ever be
He hasn’t been ravaged yet
By this noise
I’ll always dread to believe

If I can protect you boy
until
I learn to reject this noise
I will
If I can project my thoughts
Onto a canvas strong enough
to handle this truth,
I will spew it
Yes I will do
Every single movement
That I have to
Just to keep this noise from you.

There was once a part of me
Unscathed
I lost it in the month of July
Of what year
I’ll never know
But I’ll always wonder why

July, my girl, why so noisy?
Everyone knows you’re there
stop knocking down doors
you’ll get the attention when it’s fair

July… Please…
If you take our minds
then you take our lives

Take off the mask
we’ll keep you safe
July… Please…
all of this world
and all of it’s people
are only half awake
no one cares about what’s
underneath it anyway.

So take off the mask
and unknown, you’ll stay
untouched, you will remain
July, don’t set your sights on yesterday
it’s over girl
there’s hell to pay.

Her Name is July. Tattoo Outline on Writer of this Poem, Hayley Beck, Original Tattoo Done by Eddie Rivera of Tampa, Florida/Stigma Ink Tattoo shop.

Hayley Beck - a human being who likes to create schtuff.

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HNB
thewrytr.

I write because I have to; If I don’t my spirit dies.