by Ryan P. Kinney

What’s the sound of a man breaking?
Is it that slow drip drip echo of depression?
The wind rushing through the hole in your chest

Is it silent like the nights of empty beds;
Sleeping abandoned and reaching for nothing?
Just hoping for anyone to drown out the cacophony of one

Is it the metal crunch, glass break of the head-on collision with the guardrail
After drinking your dinner alone again?
Is it the slow babbling brook trickle of blood and tears blinding, burning your eyes?
The wail of an overgrown, overdue infant
The squishy mush trampled beneath your feet

Is it the sound of rolling eyes?
The “not again”s
The “are you over it, yet”s
The “*******, you’ll never understand”
“Please, someone ******* understand.”
Is it the patronizing coos?
It is the sound of the words you can never say?
Never WILL say

Is it the sound of the wrong question?
“Are you ok?”
With the wrong answer every time
The ringing of the church bells
Some long dead “Here Comes the Bride” confessional
Melding with the hangman’s funeral dirge war cry of the apocalypse

Some lifeless musician strumming OUR song in the wrong key at the wrong time
out of tune
Upon your hermit’s rib-cave harpsicord
Played by DJ HeyZues
Creator of all
Knower of none
Who died for your spins

Is it the sound of the lighting sizzle ripping through your veins?
The dubstep beat beat tantric jungle crescendo
Filling that whole with ******
The sound of waves crashing upon the shore of the most ragged jagged shredded bitter pill you’ll ever have to force down past that acidic lump in your throat

Is it knuckle cracking bone on the cinder block wall behind your bathroom mirror?
Is it the chip-chop, swish-swish on the executioner’s-butcher’s block?
Is it the gasp at the ****** of your favorite book you never wanted to read again?

A broken man sounds like nothing
You have ever heard
Will ever hear

And
         Neither
                        Did
                               She