Saturday, April 5, 2014

5/30/14 Self Comfort

Self Comfort

It is not weird.

Ok, maybe it is weird, having
several playlists in my iPod - songs,
poems, stories - carefully selected for their capacity
to calm me. A certain pitch, a certain rhythm, 
like being rocked in trusted arms. 

When I was a little marching bands made me cry.
The LOUD buzzed beyond my ears
to the bone, my ears, my eyes,
want to scream, run, hide.
Stop stop stop.
That's not weird, right? 

Subwoofers should vanish from the earth.
This would be a very good thing.

Ok, it it weird, but who says you
control my bass, my volume, my own
sensory overload? Decide what goes 
in my ears in my bones in my brain.
Stop. Stop. Stop.

So shush, let me plug the buds in my ears,
lie down in the sun or on the sofa, and listen. I am
being rocked in trusted arms and I won't
melt down all over you.

That is not weird.

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