Headphones
I知 in the departures lounge, still cold,
Waiting for that old nausea to take hold.
I have my headphones draped around my neck.
My concrete zone, my warm, exotic world.
Music keeps me warm, in winter seasons.
Melody, rhythm, and rhyme keep me awake,
When I feel like snoozing. I値l not reason
With the airport staff, who tell me to sleep.
My blood is weary, that familiar ghost train
Mindset creeps over; that haunted feeling
You get, when in public for an insane
Amount of time. This seat, is irritating.
I feel, rather sick, right about now.
The music though, is right in my eardrums;
And I can hear my ears drumming, on beat.
I can feel these, taut guitar strings strumming.
In my head. Resting on railings, my thumbs
Start to tap, and at once, my hands are dancing.
Next, my arms are romancing. I知 seated,
Yet strangely, moving. Going somewhere, like
I have somewhere to go. Almost alive.
Almost breathing.
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Originally Posted by Quist
