I am trapped in the walls of empty…


I am the eye of the hurricane

listen and you hear

nothing, quiet

it is unnerving. I am

the presence of one hand clapping.

the sound of waiting

there should be more

the whistle of a tea kettle

rustling papers

and a book laid gently on a table.

I am the eye of the hurricane

and in me no sound escapes.

Go ahead,

knock on my door

no one will hear.

I am the wind within the vacuum.

I am the grain of sand

hidden on the beach.

I am the silence

I am the center.

Swirling around me,

louder and louder

yet silent and eerie

quiet

measured

seemingly managed

yet

somehow not

I am the eye of the hurricane.

I cannot be caught.

Yet I am trapped

forever

without sound.

 

Sandler Boggs

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