Her: will I write? (To A Distressed Mind)

I want to plant my head on a fertile soil
Let my nose and ears be filled with dirt
And my eyes shut off it’s sight
While my mouth be stuffed with mud
To be one with the earth
To silence the chaos in my mind.

Will you run to my house
With your feet covered in mud
Like an excited child visiting a friend?

Will you come searching for me in the quiet of my room
As I sit on the corner of my bed
Feeling anxious from the noise of the
Guests who have overstayed in my brain?

Will you call out my name seven times
Echoing until your voice reaches me in the
Basement where I hide myself?

Ah…
What do you know about the noise of loneliness?
Or its constant whispers of black fuming soot
Like strangers bickering, screaming and pummeling
They suffocate me inside my head
As I crouch down in fear with my hands to my ears.

Ah…

You don’t know.
You know nothing about the kind of noise or havoc
That myself can conceive through the silence of the night
I wake up feeling dreadful in the calm of the morning.

Let me plant my head on a fertile soil
Let my nose and ears be filled with dirt
And my eyes shut off it’s sight
While my mouth be stuffed with mud
To be one with the earth
To silence the thunder in my mind.

Let me transform into roots
Roots that cover the spaces underground
Stems that are nourished by my roots
Let me grow flowers in my head
And leaves on my body
Peace, please, come in and nestle within me.