in my room

On my silent nights, I lie down on my bed,

And my thoughts begin to run wild, unchecked and untamed.

The boundaries of time blur,

As the future, the present, and the past

Collide and coexist within the same fragile time.

It overwhelms me,

A nauseating swirl of possibilities and regrets.

I see flashes of what could have been,

What I longed for it to be,

And what it might still become.

The weight of it all presses against me,

And my stomach churns,

For there is no escape from these relentless musings.

The night is quiet,

Almost unnervingly so.

All I can hear is the rhythm of my own breathing, steady yet haunting,

A reminder of my presence in the stillness.

I close my eyes and wonder,

Will there ever come a time

When I can hear the true silence of the room?

A silence so profound and enveloping,

It muffles the chaos of my mind.

The kind of silence that feels less like emptiness and more like a gentle embrace,

One that soothes the deafening loudness of my sadness and brings me the solace I desperately crave.

Until then, I remain here,

Adrift in the currents of my thoughts,

Waiting for a peace

That feels like it may never come.