strike!

my skull,

a memorial for my ancestors

and ornament eyes

spherical boulders

steel bowling balls

pound strikes 

in my head

but outside of the ringing

in my ears

is nothing

but 

silence,

craving a different tune.

scarce memories of the

clatter

and dancing children

strike!

arcade madness

and summer,

specifically in June

has never been the same

my boulder eyes

rolling bowling balls

in my head

this cycle

that craves silence

but longs for the joy.