seven days; two of relieved pressure
and five with each sense inundated
but that’s normal, I gather.

at quarter to nine, untimely to my ears,
the bell rings - an alarm that only agitation hears -
and I’d do anything just to become unfeeling.

an empty classroom; a seating plan with no direction;
to my name there is a slight tremor, fidgeting to distraction
with a brain that has no intention of hearing.