Noises

Pressing against the walls as they close in, my head hurts from the weight. I am not pure. It rings over and over in my mind. The icy fingers of misplaced guilt, fear, anxiety, and despair pull every waking thought. Even when outside I am sunny, I feel hollow, empty inside. Words ricochet off of me as water off of feathers. They barely saturate the darkness that billows like storm clouds in my mind. At times, it feels as though the brightness of the sun dispels the black depths. It doesn't. Tendrils of ebony continue to seep deep into hidden crevices and cracks. In times of trouble, the whispers of darkness explode into a thunderstorm that threatens to drown its victim in pain and noise. Reverberating against the walls, the hurricane lashes everything in it's way. The noise is deafening. There is no way out. No going back. No way to change the past. It hurts. 

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