Sensitive

I listen to music
when the tapping from the keyboards gets too loud.
When you chew your food,
I can feel the taste in my mouth.
The cry from a baby magnifies through my ears,
but I’m patient and wipe away all the tears.

I’m sensitive to all the things you can’t see.
I’m sensitive to oxygen falling from the trees.
The Sun fills me up with radiation,
and I can feel it’s enriched intoxication.

People talk with layers of squawks;
the vibrations penetrate through my thoughts.
Any repetition is like a disease,
slowly killing me,
through my thick,
black bloodstream.
Turning these pages – scars my fingerprints,
my hands are filled with all the indents.

I’m sensitive to all the things you can’t see.
I’m sensitive to oxygen falling from the trees.
The Sun fills me up with radiation,
and I can feel it’s enriched intoxication.

I listen to powerful, alluring music
which helps me block out all these delusions.
The soft white screen – coupling matt grey boarders,
wants me to fall in and swim with the milky water.
The veins in an autumn leaf, remind me of galaxy formations.

I’m sensitive to all the things you can’t see.
I’m sensitive to oxygen falling from the trees.
The Sun fills me up with radiation,
and I can feel it’s enriched intoxication.

I can feel your feelings as you make no sound.
It’s quiet underwater when I’m swimming through the crowd.
My phone is always set to silent
because I’m busy trying to find the silence.

I’m sensitive, living on this little island.
I don’t want to see all the distorted reminders.
The music stops – so I can deal with a conversation
as the person looks at their expensive watch.

Tick-tok
Tick-tok

Please stop!