PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Sounds


Sounds

written by a victim of Misophonia

Sounds

Prevent me from eating dinner with my family.

Sounds

Make me tear through my backpack like a shredder in order to encounter headphones.

Sounds

Trigger my feet to run as fast as humanly possible away from the source.

Sounds

Make me pull my hair and stare at my disappointing self in the mirror.

Sounds

Produce gallons of water, bursting from my eyes like a hose.

Sounds

Clench my entire body and motivate my hands to shield my ears.

Sounds

Make me fall to the floor and pray for this parasite called misophonia, to make it’s escape.

Sounds

Make me reluctant to make new friends.

Sounds

Ring in my head and clench my fists.

Sounds

Commence my vocal chords so my singing can overcome the noise of the opening of a bag of potato chips.

Sounds

Create this angry person that I don’t know, but who is not unfamiliar

Sounds

The opening of chips, the typing of keyboards, the dripping of the shower, the breathing of friends, the writing of students, the flipping of pages, the smacking of lips and tongues, the cliping of nails, the pressing of a remote, the chomping of teeth, the squashing of chewed food, the foot tapping of the nervous, the brushing of tangled hair, the smashing of a fork on teeth, the gulping of beverages, the release of satisfied taste buds after a drink, the list is neverending.

Sounds

Make me reluctant to go to the movie theaters, and force me to wait until the movie comes out on Redbox, because I know there are always popcorn chompers and Coca-Cola slurpers, sitting right behind me, waiting for my arrival.

Sounds

Spit lies to my mother from my mouth, of why I was in the bathroom while she devoured dinner.

Sounds

Make me yell the loudest yell of existence, at people who don’t know what not chewing like a cow, is like; but only in my head.

When I hear a crunch, pop, tap, slurp, gulp, scratch, sniffle, or exhale; my mind screams at me.

“Retreat! Do Not HURT Anyone! Don’t Say Anything To Hurt Another Person, like their sounds kill you.”

Sounds

Make me wonder what it’s like to be deaf.

Sounds

Are overwhelming and never ending.

Sounds are my kryptonite, and my strength comes from my headphones.

 

-Angelise Khoury

 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (5)

Angeliserdz
<p>Thank you so much!&nbsp;</p>
Insatiable
<p>Wow, The way you wrote this is truly amazing.</p>
Angeliserdz
<p>Glad to know I&rsquo;m not alone.Can you relate to my poem?</p>
B. Calliope
<p>Not alone. I experience Misophonia as well</p>
Angeliserdz
<p>Sorry I spelt clipping wrong, I wrote this as I was trying to sheild my ears from SOUNDS.</p>

Comments are closed for this poem.