Never silent

Not silence.

Never silent.

A ringing—

constant,

a channel between stations,

drifting in, drifting out.

Sometimes shallow.

Prickly.

Sometimes it presses hard to the temples

and cracks

louder

sharper

like a crack so loud

it feels like eardrums will rupture

A thousand small deaths

between now

and the final silence

that we know will never come.

My ears keep this frequency alone.

Through heartbreak

Slumber.

Firsts

and lasts.

Everything else knows how to fade—

draw back the curtains

slip into the calm

like it was never there.

Not this.

Pinging.

Whining.

Screaming.

Louder than my breathing.

Stronger than my heartbeat.

Mine.

The only thing in this body

that refuses

to go quiet.