A Sharp Inhale

Don't side eye the scream
Do not envy the volume
Thank God it is mine

Thank God it's not yours
No one earns this sharp whistle
Except by sharp cuts

If you cannot see
Trust the tenor of the voice
The hyper real pitch

I tend to meter
But do not mistake quiet
For a wave removed

Like a baby struck
No amount of reasoning
Can assuage this pain

The scream is reason
Beneath where such things take root
Fundamental halls

Spurred by a moment
Goaded by a sharp inhale
A lingering grasp

Of all that's missing
Of the threshold imminent
Please forgive my screams 

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