The Ringing

The ringing in my ears
Is my omniscient companion
Drowning out my thoughts
Stifling my dreams

Breathe in
Breathe out
I count my breaths
To ten and start again

I listen to the storm
Hoping the thundering booms
Will do the trick
And when the night is still
I turn to my phone for 
Some artificial rain

Sometimes that works
But most times it’s a matter
Of a little bit of this and a
Lot of that.

It’s harder when the room is quiet
With no one breathing at my side
Unless of course those breaths
Belong to someone sawing wood
And then I almost wish
The ringing was just a little

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