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glassea Jul 2017
say cowboy.
say hot dog.
say ice cream.
say baseball.
see, the step into the sound booth is an awkward height,
about 6 inches off the ground,
and i find myself raised on a pedestal,
sealed in for you to inspect,
watching you and an audiologist
through a glass window,
watching you decide my future
as you face away from me
so i cannot read your lips
and you cannot see me shouting stop.

say airplane,
say sidewalk,
say you might hear static in your right ear
but i know i will only hear a tone,
an electronic beep going on and on and on

say conducive hearing loss say sensoneurial damage say surgery say it might be permanent this time,
like it hasn't been permanent for the last ten years,
say there's a new technique say we can fix this,
say negative impact on social life, say poor classroom performance,
say we just want what's best for you,
say try hearing aids try CIs try cued speech,
say you need to be fixed.

it's been a decade since i first entered that sound booth,
noises not echoing off these walls that take a little more from me with every test.
it's been a decade since my hearing slipped away and
i am done mourning it but i don't think you are.

persistence is a valuable trait but stop trying,
stop putting me under with an x on my right cheek so the surgeons know how to lay me out on the operating table,
stop refusing to turn on the captions because i need the practice,
stop talking to me without tapping me first,
stop screaming at me when i mishear.

i am done mourning my hearing and i don't know if i ever grieved in the first place but you are still stuck in the stage of denial,
hoping against hope for some ******* miracle.
i don't want a miracle, i don't want anything god can give me because i am not lacking, i am whole, i already am the miracle you were looking for and i don't need to be fixed.

but you don’t believe that, do you?

so the audiologist can open the heavy soundproof door but i am still trapped inside this box,
the walls swallowing my words as you decide my future for me because
no one wants to listen to those who cannot hear.

say stop sign,
say hairbrush,
say push the button when you hear the beep
and i hold it down with my thumb,
gripping the clicker like the handle of a gun
until you tell me to let go.
but i hear deserts stretching away from me,
flat sci-fi dreamscapes where there is only one sound and i can hear it too.

say tinnitus,
say psychosomatic because you don't believe that i might hear infinity where you tell me i shouldn't.
say hole in the eardrum say the surgery might have accelerated the deterioration,
say we can try again but
i gave up ten years ago and i think you should too,
and i'm here in this sound booth screaming for you to stop
but you will not look at me,
will not even attempt communication.

no one wants to listen
to those who cannot hear.
this is meant to be spoken word.
Francis Rowell Jul 2017
your lips are a magnificent instrument
beautiful symphonies escape them
i'm in the front row,
lovingly observing your one woman orchestra
staring into your eyes.

i wish i had the ability to hear
an endless world of nothing is quite a ponder-inducing concept
Ami Shae Apr 2017
I awoke with a start
to the silence of no beating heart
lying there underneath my ear!
I wanted to choke down my fear
yet a scream was about to unleash from me
when suddenly your beating heart broke free
and made me realize it had never really stopped--
my ears were all plugged up and when they popped
the sound came through at last so loud and clear--
"lub dub lub dub lub dub"... sigh...so precious to be able to hear!
True story! I was asleep with my head on my love's chest and awoke to no sound of her beating heart and it freaked me out...then it hit me...I wasn't hearing much of anything! I panicked, but suddenly my ears popped and all was well. Scared me to pieces tho...
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Do you see me?
Or are you blind like your mother?


I'll ask again.
Do you see me?
Or are you blind like your mother?
Don't tell me your deaf either.
That's not the answer I'm looking for.
I would have never burnt the bridge if you had never fallen off it.
Yet you still say you have the honor to sit so happily upon a throne that was not crafted in your name.
Are you blind like your mother?
Can you not see me?
Because if you can not see me, then I have no choice but to talk.
And I'm losing faith in dancing.
Because I'm almost sure you can not see me.

Maybe you’re both.
Deaf and blind,
because I have not heard any such news from you of an inability to see.
Or maybe you’re just inconsiderate.
Maybe you’re just mean.
Maybe you’re just dead.

Maybe I’m just lost.

Now that I think about it, I’m the blind one.
I’m the one whose face is smushed into the pillows, correct?
Isn’t that how it’s always been?
The realization, dawned sun, is crushing.
I’ma wait for the set though.
Soon the moon will be there in replacement.
Just to match my blue heart and blue eyes.

And when the sun arrives once again,
to complement my red blood splattered on the tile,
I will have my wish.
To meet and beat your blind mother.
Apollo Hayden Feb 2017
She always had dilated pupils but never did drugs like that.
Only now I realize that her body's been trying to get its soul back.
She's got a calcified third eye with a drawn on one on her forehead for
the fools who don't think deep enough to know she isn't spiritual, because her soul has left her body a long long time ago.
Eventually truth comes to light, and truth is she had no eyes to see that we are so much more than body and bones, and the blood that we bleed.
She fools you with the things she eats, even the sound of her voice can be so sweet, but nothing could be further from the truth;
her eyes always proved that she's hollow through and through.
She still wins though, because only I know, only I felt, only I could see the truth of the real person who lied deep underneath the skin.
She's hollow through and through, having no soul within.
I sit alone in the cold feeling the ice hit my skin making little red marks appear on my arm.
No one listens to the cries of someone who's mind is too dark for their safety.
No one lends a hand to help the ones that have fallen down from the weight of the world.
Listen to the words of the voiceless and hear the words of the deaf.
Anna Starr Jan 2017
I tried to tune the radio
The waves were being erratic
I tried to twist the knobs
But then i was left with static
No hums, no notes
White noise screamed its way
Into the hollow canals of my ear

Oh how i miss the gentle breeze of the piano
The twang of country guitars
Played by those whose voices
Come from the deepest corners of their hearts
I have lost my ability to hear.
Your silence spoke volumes.

I can't hear you anymore.

*Can you hear me?
Meg B Dec 2016
And in letting you go,
I have been struck with perhaps
the greatest melancholy
in that I have started to forget
the sound of your voice
Win Star Dec 2016
And my cries have become more frequent
Louder
And fiercer
But still, no one can hear me
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