A door slam later, Hannah stood in the rain, her back to Isabel's house. The rain felt heavier than it was, large plump droplets bouncing off the ground. They cooled her hot cheeks and dappled ... [+]
Devin S. Turk is a college student writing from personal experience about Autism, transness, and Madness in the Mid-Atlantic United States, often with a cat in their lap. Devin is active on Twitter @DevinIsAutistic. "Sensitive" is in Short Circuit #10, Short Édition's quarterly review.
Too much noise
will shred the softest parts of me.
at the crash of a cymbal,
I am reminded
of the moonlight reflected
from each pointed tooth of a gator
as it thrashes the baby gazelle
in its jaws with neither
mercy
nor conscience.
then the beast,
one more living creature
just breathing
and hungry,
sinks beneath the surface
of the river.
the ripples on the water smooth over,
all is quiet again
and I am left trembling,
holding the lifeless stars
the cymbal has shaken
out of the sky.
will shred the softest parts of me.
at the crash of a cymbal,
I am reminded
of the moonlight reflected
from each pointed tooth of a gator
as it thrashes the baby gazelle
in its jaws with neither
mercy
nor conscience.
then the beast,
one more living creature
just breathing
and hungry,
sinks beneath the surface
of the river.
the ripples on the water smooth over,
all is quiet again
and I am left trembling,
holding the lifeless stars
the cymbal has shaken
out of the sky.