Noises

Noises
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Noises- so greatly needed and greatly under appreciated.
Start as the thumping of a heart from within
Thumping
Thumping
I'm here.
I'm coming.
I'm someone.

We reach our moment
The stretch too large
The space too snug
We scream as we stretch farther
Farther
Until. We. Reach. Our.

Light

Screaming.
Noises.

Noises define us.
A noise for happy.
A noise for sad.

A noise for terror.
A noise for excitement.

Shared noises

Screams escape my throat as my sister announces
She's baking a bun, and it's the first bun of the family
I scream on the inside remembering that I was my mothers first bun
My fathers first bun
My fathers burnt bun
My fathers trashed bun

I am a bun.

I am not the bun baked to perfection
Delicately opened and spread out and savored

I am the bun of a working man
Home for dinner
Thrust open bun
Pillaged by a knife
Slathered with the salty taste of despair
Plastered with the red, oozing jam of lost innocence.

I am a bun
A silent bun

Noises no longer define me
Silence aches at the magnitude at which its screaming in my head

"If it was unwanted she would have said no."
Unbelievable

You are no bun.
You are a cake.
A PIE
Filled with sweet nothings, no burns or knife breaks.
A decorative pie, prim and proper.

Pies are held to higher standard
Pies have morals
Pies have fathers
Fathers who do not burn buns

I am a burnt bun.
A silent bun
A bun that's been ripped by
One

Two

Three
A bun that's been pillaged by
One

Two

Three

A burnt bun looking for no mercy
I sit in silence
That is what the working man counts on

A burnt bun that holds an abundance of secrets

No one wants a burnt bun
A used bun

A bun is nothing without her flour