September 2, 2017
By a_p_13 GOLD, East Hampton, New York
a_p_13 GOLD, East Hampton, New York
10 articles 0 photos 2 comments

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


when you’re trying to listen to that song
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
people move on,
joy comes again,
and life
chaotic, messy
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
and maybe you don’t want to drown it out
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,
still feel so much
and be so much, so
living and tangible and raw around the edges and
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
you let yourself
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
not with the feeling that you
can never forget
though you want to
when it rips through
(leaving destruction in its wake)


but maybe
that’s okay

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