Sometimes, I think that if I plug in with my music loud enough, I can drown out my thoughts.

I imagine them blue faced and purple lipped, clinging to the sharp edges of my imploding mind.
I imagine them gasping for air bubbles and clawing at the walls, fingers going limp, feet twitching before they finally release and sink like stones to the mossy floor.
In this screaming silence... I find peace. I the midst of the howling verse and raging chorus, I find my mind blank to the fury of the storm.
I don't think about bleeding stitches or begging hearts.
I don't think about broken promises with aching fingers tearing reality away.
I can forget about burying the pain with raucous laughter, can forget about curling into my past with no desire to face the future any longer.

Flying across the fields, deaf and blinded by saltwater, I can claw out a cave in the midst of the chaos and crawl inside the emptiness.
I can crank the volume up and let my guard down, relax my white knuckled grip on sanity, my fierce attempt to hold it together.
While cocooned in the sound, lost in the airwaves, I can stop pretending that I'm whole. I'm alright. I'm fine.
I can glance over my shoulder and let my chest collapse, let the truth release its binding hold on my lungs.

There, swimming amongst the bloated bodies of my thoughts, the stiffened corpses of my feeble dreams, I can float away.
I'm not restricted by bruises or lacerations, I'm not hindered by all the dead ends I've crashed into.
I'm unconfined, unrestricted, boundless.
I'm a broken winged bird, a torn apart butterfly who is ignorant of all injuries.
I'm being thrown about by the wind and calling if flying.
I'm beautiful and tragic, I'm mindless and out of control.
I'm dead, I'm alive, I'm caged.

I'm free.