Crunch crunch of lettuce and dried pinapple in my teeth
Running water over my skin
crunch crunch crunch crunch
pitter patter of cat paws pawing at each other
creaking of the fan
buzzing of insects
death due to pitter patter pawing
crackling of my kretek cigarette

Beth - Dover, DE

It starts with the almost silent, inaudible, barely there sound of air filling my lungs, (or what's left of them). I once heard that you do not burn holes in your lungs, they are filled with pockets of tar.

Followed by pulsating beats from angered music, which I quickly swap for a more calming tune.

All of this is accompanied by the whir of a fan.

Inside, there is an orchestral piece playing that differs from the noise that surrounds me. My thoughts are moving with rapidity falling without meaning swirling around among gelatinous nerves I am abandoning town soon swapping suburban nothingness the sound of crickets yelping at five in the morning for the ever present soundtrack of cars and planes trannies in heels marking the concrete never sleeping.

A woodpecker knocks on my roof.

A car rushes past. Then, another.

Life on a highway leads to this. Life on a highway leads to unpleasantries.

Since, there is not much audial stimulus, I'm finding, I'll replay the sounds of yesterday.

Memory induced tinnitus: Metal grates against steel. Hot fenders collide. Everyone screams. Conceptual intercourse, or just another accident on the curb?

"I can't believe you wrecked my car fuck you you fucking asshole fuck you fuck.

Traveling, tiptoeing back inside. Turning all extraneous noise down, blocking out everything. I am left with the sound of my breathing irregularly dispersed along the beats of my heart. Occasionally, the end of an exhale spills over onto the beginning of an inner "thump," which flows directly into the next inhale.

It's as if someone captured all that is bittersweet and looped it seamlessly.

Alexandra