Kids sprint, screaming,
ripping through the afternoon.
Dogs bark --
an unbroken cacophony,
howling at prey.
Usually,
I hate the noise of the day.
It grew different.
Loud distractions
deliberately slicing
through melancholic thought.
Sunset.
A creature lurks
when sound falls short,
boasting a cruel, cunning ability
to invade a mind.
Once proud
of the person I was.
Not am.
A silent hum of nothingness --
deafening, yet never loud.
Everyone content in slumber,
I’m not allowed,
mentally colonised
by the same grey cloud.
My eyes tire,
glued to the dim, flickering glow of the TV.
Sat still.
Not happy.
Not sad.
Not excited.
Not scared.
Not a thing.
Just numb.
But not daring to anger the silence,
for I fear what it whispers.
Shackled by myself --
Pandemonium is the key.
The quiet conceals the lock from me.
Is noise a friend?
It sets me free.
I'm learning
to love the noise
of the day,
but the night
still whispers its weight.
--Christoph Taylor, 16/01/2026
Theme : Self