An Occasional Tinnitus Suffering

And I'm sitting here, trying to escape the noise
And bathe into the silence that is inevitably around me.
Unfortunately, all that crackles through my mind
Is the blaring of these high pierced brain waves,
Causing me to further suffer of this Tinnitus.
The loud hissing matches the PC, the low hum
Causes me to wiggle about in misery,
As I desperately search for something to drown out the chaos.
I sit in close tension, in my mammoth sweater and baggy blue pants.
Hearing the foreign television in the room next door,
Soap Operas there to entertain tireless, overdramatic parents of Windsor.
Coughs here and there, sniffs and grunts,
Irritating screams of pain and agony echo from poor actors.
Sounds of water and sounds of dishes, sounds of bowls of cereal in the sink,
Sounds of sisters descending noisily down the stairs to greet us warmly.
Sounds of doors slamming shut, of drawers opening and closing,
Sounds of a house once at peace now roaring with six lives.

But I'd rather hear the morning air
If the windows were not all bolted shut.