mundane uproar

Some people remind themselves they’re here

By listening to their heartbeat or the roar in their ears

I define living by the rustles of moments alone

Myself in motion, the rustles of clothes, the groan of bone

My favorite noises, they live in the mundane 

I notice them in movies, I notice them in names

Whispers in life, they’ve followed me home

They only exist when I’m on my own

Sneakers on pavement, sighs in passing

Car doors opening, sirens trespassing

Clothes brushing skin, petals scratching

Aglets meeting leather, zippers thatching

Exhaustion seeps slowly, it hasn’t reached my ears

To succumb to the morning: seeping creeping fears

My eyes may falter, my touch may ignore

My ears hear all, living in breathing’s kind uproar