HearA Story by D. Mansfield
Sweat beading on my brow,
Eyes dilated, seeing every thing. My peripheral vision is 200 degrees, I can almost, see behind my head. Sounds are louder, I hear more, Both higher and lower, than others do. Even a breeze can agitate me. I'm listening, always listening, For a threat? An insult? A cry for help? Or just a noise intruding, on my thought process? I can hear things that a human can't hear, Two blocks away a person talking quietly, Conversations between friends, All the way across town. Alarms, tones, doorbells, all that hurt my ears. Painful sessions that last hours, Always a narrative, belittling, hating, ready for violence. This is why my senses never rest, It's a 24hr a day barrage of information, threats, advice. Sometimes at a whisper, other times Like a jet engine, rupturing my eardrums. This runs in the background all the time. As I make my way through the day I am always coping with this. Keeping it from people, because they wouldn't, couldn't if they tried, understand. They would instantly write me off as crazy, making it so perfect. I am instantly discredited, open to ridicule. The perfect weapon is what it is. . . Because no o e will ever believe it, as it slowly kills me. Perfect © 2025 D. MansfieldReviews
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1 Review Added on January 22, 2025 Last Updated on January 23, 2025 AuthorD. MansfieldMOAboutMark Twain, Sun Tzu, Hunter S. Thompson, John Steinbeck, the Viet Nam war on the nightly news, Smoking Joe Frazier, The Pittsburg Steelers 1970's, Thin Lizzy, Deep Purple "machine head", Steve Mi.. more..Writing
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