when your ears are full
already of your own words
you will never hear.
what i mean to say
is that i am growing sick
of train-like speakers.
i'd rather you talk to yourself against a wall
in the mirror, into your phone, open but not on.
if all you want to do is talk, allow half a response,
then interrupt it to talk more, go flap your gums
all by yourself. i'm absolutely sick to my stomach
to my lungs to my heart i have become
sick to my ears of the sound of your voice and
i've always warned people who should know
that when i am at my most quiet i am also at
my most dangerous, most angry. i will float
in my silence allowing you to verbally masturbate,
lost in my own fantasies in which i reach out
and grab your jaw and tear it off of your face,
declaring you unworthy of your words, walking
out the door with it held high over my head like a
trophy, baptizing me with every step. i will
take it home and string every one of your teeth
onto a necklace, bleach the jaw and attach rubies
and diamonds and make of it my crown which
i will wear when i intend to do nothing at all except
listen.
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