Closet thinker

As a closet thinker I hide beneath judgement,  
barraged in with toxic thoughts tipped sharp.  
I vanquish shadows with a carefully acquired complex,  
separating fantasy through logical reality filters.
In the end someone has to do it.
 
The words I need to scream twine around air with a  
silken twirl, infecting my oxygen with depression,
then handing motivation to louder voices in handfuls.
So I delve a little further into enslaving daydreams,
discovering a new leash on life, death,  
and the mentally unmapped in-between.
 
Twisting the volume up a little louder I feel
my eardrums pound out a beat in perfect timing.
Blood cultivates the music with a rushing red sea,
racing in and rolling out of skull surfaces.
Thoughts come out to play as my eyes blur,
all is brighter for a little while.
For a little while.