Like She Had Been All Her Life

She's been listening to the rock songs again,
Like she had been all her life.

Every beat the drums made
Every string the guitars strummed
Every loud chorus she had heard
Solace, sweet solace, was what she found.

She drowned herself
on the depths of her thoughts
on the musical notes
made perceivable by the senses
through a piece of technology
that comes with a plug in the ears
probably, to make sure no sound from the outside world
would come seeping.
And hurt her again.

The good part about rock music
was that it was noise
but it made justice to how people
would define noise
as if it is an unwelcome visitor.

The noise was comforting
because it made more sense;
it made more sense than all those words
spoken and sang by lovers
confounded by the promises of love
as if it is this enchanted feeling
when it is the complete opposite.

She felt numb, devoid of any feeling.
And that was all she needed.
The numbness, the noise,
the bitterness of a truth.

The truth that she was alone.
Like she had been all her life.