Craving Quiet

The clock repeats its weary chime,
Each hour blurs the edge of time.
My thoughts, like moths, refuse to rest—
They flicker, flit, and beat my chest.

A ring, a whine, a ceaseless tone—
Tinnitus sings when I’m alone.
No silence comes, no space to breathe,
Just sirens threaded ’neath my teeth.

The night is deep but never still,
A whisper haunts the window sill.
The pillow knows my every turn,
My eyes still ache, my temples burn.

A dull, familiar throb returns—
Behind my eyes, it coils and churns.
Each pulse a knock, a steady drum,
My body aching, senses numb.

I beg the dark to draw me in,
To hush the noise beneath my skin.
But silence hides, just out of reach,
Beyond the mind’s relentless speech.

I long to sink in velvet air,
To feel the hush that isn’t there.
No engines hum, no futures call—
Just stillness draped like sleep’s own shawl.

Yet here I lie, adrift and wide,
While peace and I sleep side by side.
So close, yet veiled in restless night—
A dream of calm, a stolen light.