another sense

Whenever I am sitting in the basement
with eyes fixated on the computer screen
my ears will begin twitching, and that’s probably because of
toilet rush, kitchen cut, and the cars collecting neighborhood trash

Whenever I am walking alone along the lake
with hands up and down levitating in the wind
I had the rhythms filled in my head, 
with the construction of thousands of storylines

If you give me music, I can sub the sounds,
I am the vindictive vampire at your birthday, deary 
I am the sentimental introvert at a disco party
I am the festive clown when giving you an apology

Billions of music pieces, billions of different selves
I wonder about the boundaries of my emotional multitude
I can give you thousands of different moods
I am the emotion vending machine, you put and I’ll give

So I am getting tired of this, and I threw the headphones into those lakes
So I hear the cars horning, hurrying past the street
because their destinations are never me, 
leaving me staring at an empty lonely tree

So I hear the children suddenly sneering, 
and I recover from the missing heartbeat, I hate responsibilities 
So I hear the trains carrying nothing belonging to me
hu-luong-luong, hu-luong-luong, they step over me

So I am in this dilemma
I hate music because it makes me feel the drama
I hate sounds because they remind me of the convulsive reality
I am safe but never sound

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So I wish sounds are something substantial
that I can manually drag them out of my eardrums
but they flow into my ears and contaminate my brain like a stream
and I couldn’t block them but listen to

magnifying screams from
mistreated sheep with
machine screechings and
malevolent sneerings

But if I poke my eardrums
will that bring me peace?
Never mom’s dinner call, never my dog’s happy yell
never an exciting “how!”, or lovers’ “shall we now…”

I hate sounds because they sound like screeching reality
I hate music because they drain my feeling capabilities
I can’t leave sounds here because they are nostalgic there filling me
I can’t leave music there because they offer me escape from reality

So I cover my missing heartbeats
and conceal my convulsiveness like ears twitch
So I continue to be grateful for the dinner calls
and my hands continue to float in the wind, conform to that beat

So I convince myself to go with it
Sometimes I am this sensitive to react to tiny cabin floor creaks
yet sometimes my skull is so impenetrable that I won’t even notice
when your hands are waving in front of me

Music and sounds
You know how I hate you
You know how I love you
You know how I dance out my madness because of you
You know how I am never amused or sound because of you