Ambush

Sometimes, when I'm lying in bed
Barricaded in blanket and pillow
From out of nowhere- I feel the point
of a sharpened spear.

It's wielder --> all scales and wings
All savagery and low cunning

I call him the Bad Noise.
He breaks the peace of my silence
With denigrating bombs and grenades.

YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING YOU'RE NOTHING.

I'd like to say I'm strong enough not to believe him.
But - if the amount of your substance was directly proportional to the growing distance between you and the friend you used to have, at what rate does the volume of your self-esteem decrease until it reaches 0?

Show your work.
Your pencil is only an eraser.

It's impossible.

I envy the people who can leave their homes.
Then return to find out that they have grown apart from everyone they love

What is to be said about the ones who stay and watch it happen?

The again - today could have just been a bad day.
 Bad days are not indicative of bad lives.

You are not defined by the people who walk out on yours.

On a good day, I can drown out the Bad Noise.
But you are only covering up the sound of him sharpening his spear,
waiting for his next opportunity to ambush.