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Sep 2014
What if sound was robbed,
Held at gunpoint
And smuggled away
From me
Into a duffel of contraband.

What if songs became nothing?
What would I
Do? As the bus
Bounces up and down,
When the sun hasn't
Yet stolen it's kiss.
The window yields
Bland scene
And I would recognize
The silence
In the detestful
Way I do
When I forget the wires.

What if his voice
Was gone?
Could I remember it?
Could I fill in sound as his
Lips moved,
All I'd ever see
Would be lips.
And I don't like mouths as it is.
But maybe
They'd be my new wires
And my eyes would follow
Their parted
Movements, enamored.

What if instructions were silenced
And I was left to guess at
What to do?
Emergency situation
Stealing my life away
Because I couldn't hear
Anything about
The oxygen supply
Above my head.

I'd perish in silence.

Would I speak?
Or only write?
Would I feel heard
If I could barely fathom listening?
Olivia McCann
Written by
Olivia McCann
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