Sometimes they're real quiet
So you're left straining to hear them
Stemming from the back
Somewhere in the distance
Starting out by whispering answers
And helping you through tests
Contesting any ignorance
Prancing through protests with dance.
Advancing to your consciousness
Pulling on your ears
Until they start to drown out the foreground
Mounds of needs they need filling
Billing your being with a filling so dense
It just weighs you down.
Frowns get more frequent
Denting violent accents to your spine
Leaving twitching imprints
Hinted at from squinting flints found
Somewhere in youth.
In some undetected prodrome
Roaming all the corners
Your brain kept you out of.
Friends morphing into enemies
Banging violent energy confusing hopeless
Silhouettes getting lost in the shadows
Of white empty rooms
Assuming certain fumes will one day
Show their tombs