The Boy Next Door



The Boy Next Door

Spiralling down the darker corners of the mind
7am, crying, no wailing, like an injured animal,
The sound stops and starts like the humming of
the fridge, who comes to a stop with a great thudding,
trembling the walls - the walls, paper thin, seeping voices
flutter to my ears like a black and white TV left on
whilst the old man sleeps on the couch.
I take a bath, to relax, to unwind, and the voices
seep through, drowned out by Italian songs reverberating
against the tiles, but I pause it, pause and listen - the shameful
curiosity snapping awake, and there it comes, the wailing, and
shouts, and then the muffled crashing of a mind at war.

No prompt, just some thoughts that needed to come out, somehow.. I'm so behind.

Comments

  1. Rosemary Nissen-Wade22 April 2015 at 11:09

    Oh dear, so disturbing to hear such sounds.

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  2. I never had to hear such sounds.. I would be very concerned about the safety of your neighbor..

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  3. "Spiralling down the darker corners of the mind"

    a perfect opener for this disturbing sequence of sounds

    much love...

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  4. It definitely lodged itself in my head. I just hope he's OK now, wherever he is..

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  5. It was very disturbing, and woke me up a couple times.. Thanks for reading..

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  6. I was quite concerned, but didn't know how to approach it. We did ask him if things were OK, he said yes.. It was his friend, we found out, who was in this state.. I just hope he managed to cope with him like that..

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