(or, I Wish She Would Shut the Hell Up)
Heard
and understood are not the same things.
She bangs at her keyboard until my ears bleed
her litanies; afternoon cat stretches audible; her yawns
long and invitational:
Please pay attention to me.
Stack papers one more time for good measure;
the break between the walls of contrived sounds in
this mostly song, sometimes dance, of her hunger.
I wish rain for her.
I have never wanted for spotlights; don’t know,
really, how to need in any other
ways except punishingly
determined not to admit
and without
any kind of gum to smack back
at whatever perceived harms I
endure.
I endure still.
And probably no worse, or better
for it.
God I hope this isn’t about the girl across the hall from you. She seemed like a quiet person!!!! 🙂
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Hey Holly! Thanks for visiting my blog 🙂
LOL–actually, the subject is a composite character of people who seek attention by making noise from basic (and rather random) activities.
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