An Empty Room
An Empty Room
It's dark, an absence of photons,
And I cannot tell my skin apart from my bones,
I have become a shell of broken limbs,
I used to be a home of someone I think,
Sometimes they emit the sounds, and I feel the echo of it,
The cacophony so thick, I can almost taste it,
I feel the blood rush with the velocity that can't be calculated,
And they collide with my walls and I see the splatter of the red,
I become the darkness, the blood, the scream, that echo,
The hollowness of the void, doesn't scare me anymore,
But sometimes when I feel the blood galloping towards me now,
I don't know why I want to be swallowed by it, some how,
Because the feelings have nowhere else to go,
They keep getting cluttered, without telling me so,
Perhaps if I ignore the screams,
They wouldn't collide with the invisible heap,
So that I could be an empty room again,
For someone's need.