The Enemy of Silence

A blackbird’s greeting nudges me
awake. I roll over until my preset reminder
reverberates. In the bathroom,
I take aural stimulants to get me through the mundane
morning routine before immersing myself in a cocoon of cacophony.
Echoes of beating hearts and pulses stay with me once
I’ve emerged. When it’s time to eat again, I flick
through menus and rip out the pages
so everyone knows what genres I’m consuming.
Tribal marks of metalheads and former indie kids are
flaunted as I go home. There, I set my mind ablaze with dance.
And as my fever breaks, I question if it’s a friend
or enemy of silence. All I know is that
it’s music to my ears.

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