I sat next to the cold wall
With earphones
Listening to music of silence,
Voices of past stories
Sneaked in my head with a wobble
I’m sure if walls had ears
They couldn’t hear these voices,
If they had the copyright of my
Feelings,
They would have infringe privacy,
And sense shivers in my right hand.
Shivering in the cold,
Walking in the darkness,
Running beyond a marathon race,
There was a concrete reason
Why my right hand couldn’t push ink
Beyond just a line of a poem
I was like a tree with phloem
Removed for the purpose of medicine
Nobody thought translocation was a sin
To them it was just like infraction in eyes
Of law in the shrine of common art.
The music of silence could entertain
The less fortunate,
Everything seemed to be late,
Replies, blessings, luck,
Everything!
I couldn’t publish my feelings
When my audience was just my
Reflection on bath water,
I just one person to disavow their insensitivity,
Let wind to quietly sweep away dryness
Around my lips and save me from.
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