Stranger at Dawn

There is a crack in my voice
Underneath this sanguine filter,
And it usually gets louder at night
When I lie awake in my bed
Inhaling the darkness
And exhaling the light.
There is heaviness in my sighs;
Words which get stuck
In my throat- slashing
My veins if I force them out.
So, I don’t. I let them settle in
Until they burn my insides
And the smoke comes out
From my nostrils;
Rising up to form a cloud
To drench me in rancid rain
And I melt, absorbing
This stinging pain.
Every night I dissolve,
To come out at dawn,
Feeling like someone else
Like I don’t belong at all.

The sound of nothing

What sounds like nothing?
What does nothing sound like?
By the dawn of the light
When the windows are shut,
I hear my room
And it utters a static sound;
Even though there isn’t anything around
I close my eyes
Stop breathing for a moment
And hear
Static.
My room sounds like nothing,
Nothing sounds like static.
Maybe the molecules collide
And produce charge,
Maybe the light particles rub against each other
Maybe it’s the sound of the universe
Or maybe I think too much.