There is no quiet
You don’t get to quiet
You can’t ask for quiet
Can’t sit and wait for quiet
You can’t plead for quiet
You can’t sleep off the noise and wake up to quiet
You can’t dream out the quiet
There is no quiet
If your body wasn’t already shaking
The walls sure will
If you legs weren’t already shaking
The floor sure will
You won’t know if it’s you or the room,
It won’t matter.

If you weren’t crying then,
They’ve made a promise you will,
if not now,
soon.

The relentless quiet-less-ness
The relentless shudder of the walls, the floor
The relentless sound of breaking concrete
Like a thunder of the mind,
within the drums of your ears,
It doesn’t go quiet enough to echo.
The relentless terror
The relentless burning
The smell of death stays in your hair for days
The streets smell of burnt amber, a relenting sinew of death
The relentless shaking
The relentless screams
The relentless sleeplessness
The relentless dying
The relentless dying
We cannot stop finding death

Everywhere
It is relenting
Relenting
The relenting
The relenting


Then after it all,
you’re dead either way.