Protected

I cannot talk anymore,

I just hear people chatter,

So I chatter in the noise.

I float across 

White cement,

Water pipes,

Grey cubicles,

Glass windows,

Central air conditioning,

RFID cards,

6 latte's,

White paper cups,

Keyboards,

Clicks,

White hair,

Bitten chapped lips

Dark circles,

Dairy milks, 

Black pigment liners,

and Tyrells,

Knowing how alone can a person be.

I hear them talk,

So I talk,

About black plugs,

And good design.

I cannot talk anymore,

So I listen to Blackfield and Lacuna Coil,

And soak into Sigur Ros,

And write down lines,

From Into the Wild.

Others tried to define my identity,

I tried defining it too,

But while defining others identity,

I lost mine way too soon.

I cannot talk anymore,

So I scribble scrawly lines,

To know that I have my identity,

Protected,

In cream papers of my notebooks,

That will get lost in time.

I don't want to be protected like my lines.