Beating drum beats out of beat,
Causing crashing, crying, collapsing,
Innocent in the bunk below,
I am her protector with the remote control,
Chucking up drunk in the darkness,
Fingertips scratching in my ears,
If only they could understand,
Their sounds are more than just a whisper,
Implanting Arthur’s sword into old wounds,
Alone I cry, alone I cry.
Stillness of morning is eerily calming,
Black scars laid down flat,
Arms wrapped around my glasses,
As another knot on my belt is added.