I prefer music
alive and breathing
into the empty space
between classes, it blissfully distracts me,
uplifts me,
and persists long after I take my headphones
off.
I feel its chemistry, its biology, its math, and its poetry,
its native tongue that changes with every repetition,
and I let it speak, and pretend to understand,
I smile or cry like
an infant in a mother’s arms.
-Silence-
Delicately, tenderly untangling
umbilical-like chord,
fed into life and it cries out anew,
the one or two songs
I’m into
right now.
A hard tiled floor,
scuffed, speckled with dirt
and dust swept to where the edge meets grey wall,
backpack balanced, upright
as I slide down and sit.
The birth of warmth,
the feeling of life,
of heating the tile with my body,
breathing in rhythm
with the heartbeat ringing
out,
pumping intravenously
pulsating softly,
the energy palpable
for no one
but me.
A nodding head
a tapping foot,
the faintest heartbeat
echoing
down an empty hallway.