Noise

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crickets chirp
cicadas buzz
loud, incessant but impossible to
pinpoint any direct sound

 

somehow, it fades
into the background
until almost forgotten
this cacophony of pure noise
becomes nothing more than
static

 

when you’re trying to listen to that song
intently
but somehow never hearing the very
noise doing the blocking

 

stop to listen
really listen
to the (annoyance),
the fading backdrop of life,

that shows the intricate melodies and the

feeling of more contained
like the pain of loss
unfocused, passed, faced
becoming a delicate background, a careful knowledge, an emptiness
a buzzing that never really leaves or fades,
only gets easier to ignore
in time
with time, colored by other
experiences.
people move on,
joy comes again,
and life
chaotic, messy
loud
drowns out the never ending static
of sadness

 

but in quiet moments,
when the world slows in its turning
and everything seems to pause
it’s hard to ignore
you stop and really
listen
and maybe you don’t want to drown it out
anymore
and you hear
the cicadas, and
the pop music skips
in and out and fades
to pure, full
static. and
the pain comes

 

how can a hole,
so gaping wide and empty,
devoid of nothing,
anything,
still feel so much
and be so much, so
living and tangible and raw around the edges and
Loud
and it hits you
this thing that you have been living with
living with
suddenly gasping and screaming,
doubled over, the wind knocked out, but
everything looks
the same

 

and finally, the realization
that the static
this pain
is now part of the music, part of the
tapestry of life,
and every experience is
Colored by it

 

and so
in those quiet moments, when
no one is watching or
listening
you let yourself
Hear
the cicadas, and the loss,
the hole that somehow has so many layers
and a melody all by itself
ending with a dissonant chord
a little off beat
a broken edge that you must work
to fit into yourself
because without the static, there can’t be music

 

but when the crickets and cicadas
finally stop
and the (static) music has all been long silenced
it will never be
Quiet
not with the feeling that you
can never forget
though you want to
sometimes
when it rips through
(leaving destruction in its wake)

 

but maybe
that’s okay






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