he stole my car radio.
so I sit in silence.
but sometimes quiet is violent,
pummelling ’til everything’s out of control.
and it’s taking its toll.

I hate driving this car,
it’s careering.
I struggle to correct the steering
– to limit the casualties.

but nobody sees,
the effort it’s taking,
the ease that I’m faking
the noise I’m not making.

I look at the hole
where the thing that he stole
is MIA
and I can’t pay
to replace it.

so I sit.
wound tightly
driving nightly
in ear-splitting silence.


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