Quiet

It was a holiday, and I was alone

It’s quiet in here. Voices get muffled
meaning communicated gets slightly ruffled
But I hear me in here, I’m still aloud
churning out thoughts in a stagnant crowd

and to everyone else I look tusseled and tight
like I’ve just run and ran right through the night
someone’s coming over, bringing the same
a speak maybe soothing, maybe full of pain

another living a life with people she’s found
laughing and dancing and talking, pour some on the ground
that’s for the one’s who’ve past on, moved away
that’s for the one who can’t seem to stop the sway

others cannot be found off on visitations
taking themselves to warm, lit habitations
there they are expected and even embraced
there they find that they are already placed

there are those who share my blood
the same flowing in my vein, a regulated flood
I remember all of these are the bright sounds
but all I know is garble, murmured vocal compounds

yet…it’s quiet in here…