Aleah Dye
Rapture's Sound
He lives
in the rhythm
in the rhythm
1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and
5 times he looks at me
Drumming out a beat
only he can hear
Drumming out a beat
only he can hear
But he tries to play it
for me anyway
for me anyway
On my chest
between my hips
against any exposed skin
between my hips
against any exposed skin
He hums and
taps
taps
and I stare
wondering
What is the cost
of having a mind
of having a mind
that gives you everything
but
but
rest
To Noise-Making (CW: violence)
Why are people so quiet?
I am angry—I’ve been wanting
this lately: a chance
to explode, to tear down walls
with my sound, my screams,
while the rest of them stand slack-
faced, mouths thin lines
giving nothing to no one.
this lately: a chance
to explode, to tear down walls
with my sound, my screams,
while the rest of them stand slack-
faced, mouths thin lines
giving nothing to no one.
My feet are burning
with every well-placed step,
with every neck I hold down
until they admit they, too, need
to scream.
with every well-placed step,
with every neck I hold down
until they admit they, too, need
to scream.
I don’t want
to like this, this gnawing,
ravenous pressure
inside my head.
to like this, this gnawing,
ravenous pressure
inside my head.
Not today. Please,
not today. I was promised
an audience, but they are too
damn quiet.
not today. I was promised
an audience, but they are too
damn quiet.
When my brain explodes
with the glaring silence,
when my blood spatters
across their hardened jaws,
with the glaring silence,
when my blood spatters
across their hardened jaws,
I’ll try not to
like it.
like it.
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