Pulse


Help stop the music

Turn off the rhythm of the mind.

The pulse that keeps beating.

Dim the sound of the notes.

The dots the lines the hearing.

Quiet the chords.

The unity that keeps on breaking.

Why keeps breaking?

Why not stops?

Because

Hush the harmonies.

The fragile that is strengthening.

Freeze the dancers.

The movement when words are lacking.

Take speech from the actors.

The text that does the entertaining.

Rip the taps off the shoes.

The noise that keeps repeating.

Shred the costumes.

The assumed that is assuming.

Burn the mask.

Fire smoke breathing suffocating

The shield that does the hiding.

Cry the mascara away.

Light shut close wet tearing

The false that keeps persisting.

Tear the set piece by piece.

The world that is crumbling.

Let the curtain fall down down down.

To cover what is now missing.

Cut the strings of my heart

Disconnect me from the puppeteer

Crinkle up the symbols on the chart

Those mean nothing to us here

My hands fall limp so as not to touch.

My throat be slit so as not to sing.

My lips bleed so as not to say much.

My feet bruise so as not to stand.

Maybe then it shall not sting.

Maybe then they’ll understand

Maybe then I shall feel nothing-

Which is better than everything

The pulse beats.

The heart beats.

The pulse stops.

The heart stops.

The hearts-

Stop

Quiet now.

They can hear you.

Loud now.

You can hear them.

Stop now

Nothing is heard

Like what you read? Give Naomi Rottman a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.