compilation (birb journalist)

I

the keys of the rain

water dances on the metal stage covering my head, it makes a melody which cannot be replicated elsewhere. there is this slight anxiety present when the skies make a melody, and a comfort of when there is an absence of sound in the early hours as the rain takes it's show to muffle all the other unpleasant worries lurking to take my nightly thoughts of pleasantries.

Anxieties

Sometimes the soft lullaby of the rain intensifies and becomes scolding and cover to those that know what occurs in these early hours, slowly flooding the containers and sweeping and cleansing the lands. i fear what i may know and hear, i fear so much from these intense rains it scares. Why must the winds whistle so harshly as if it calls upon the folks sheep that rest upon the clouds, why must the Rain hit the metal stage so hard, are they alright i wonder...

what is that i hear?

I have lost my senses, i avert my eyes elsewhere, is this anxiety? i ponder, my sanity is slowly leaving me, yet i do nothing but hide more and more, is this only happening to me? odd yet fitting, it may be utter nonsense but there is some sort of sense in that gibberish i spout in the mids of the night, hoping that my screams into the void would be noticed by others akin to myself.

Another carbon copy

I strive t stick out, to succeed, to be the main focus even for once, it all seems like we are just extras in a bigger film yet to be aired, do we fight to get noticed or do we make ourselves noticed though extreme effort, even to break morals and break friendships? i say it isn't worth it..but i wonder what is more worth it, to be noticed by all and remembered by all but be alone, or be with company and not get recognized at all?