Lisztomania

I would become mad if I were to listen to the blandness of an empty island and the white noises of nothing on my own solitude.  Hand me my earplugs, for the sounds of the shores have unsatisfied me.  I cannot relate to the harmony of the moon and the tides or the songs of crickets compelling each other like magnets, loving in sync.   I would much rather up the volume, tune out the world and submerge in the comfortability of music, for that is all I have

This poem is about: 
Me

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