Coalesce

Vacuum

Voices arise as the wind slams windows

When the pillars of Kin

Drain the air of oxygen

I feel like I could just fly

A tempest storm within our home

Whipping whirlwinds from others

Yet I am also to blame

For I do not seek the eye in the storm

Instead I alight for lands unknown

A mind palace

For me alone

Regret?

Regret is not a proper summary

Of a sundering sunset.

---

My palace

Holds my world together stronger than Atlas

For I sleep better

Upon my bed of bone, my tether

When there is a thundering storm outside the walls.

Is it because I draw some form of depraved enjoyment from it?

Or simply that I have grown used to it?

And hence; am I blind to the thunder and deaf to the lightning

Because it is what I know?

People can tell me it is wrong but it is still my home.

It may be chaos but it is mine and mine alone

And such a place would give one the power of a monarch on a throne.