Do you hear the perpetual sorrow of a thousand broken hearts pumping to the beat of a scratched, junk store record?

Or is it the cries of a hundred lost souls seeking compassion and solace from the cold, silent nights?

Maybe you hear the echo of all your problems amplified and broadcast into a small room with no windows.

Perhaps it is your thoughts screaming by faster than you can think them, like a flurry of five year olds towards Santa Claus in an overcrowded shopping mall with no air circulation.

Or maybe it is only the pain in your head and the ringing in your years from straining yourself in the dead of the night during a frigid, static daze, trying to listen for something you only wish you could hear.

If you close your eyes, maybe you hear me.