Restless nights,

Disheveled sheets,

Tangled and knotted

As I roll and turn

In soundless sleep.

 

My private earthquake

Rumbles me from

Deepest slumber.

The pulsating glow

From the clock face

Beams through the

Early moonrays.

 

Dazed and exhausted,

I rise from my rest

Only to collapse again.

I shut my eyes once more.

 

The earthquake returns

With robotic conformity.

Buzz, buzz, buzz,

The bed vibrates

Beneath me,

Like a swarm

Of angered bees.

 

Frustrated, I reach

For this cursed keeper

Of time, and smash it,

Pounding at the buttons

Until it leaves me

Alone once more.

 

Alas, its trick proves true

Forcing me from

Peaceful rest.

I pull myself up.

 

My feet smack the

Earth with silent thumps,

Marching my body

Toward the bathroom.

I run the sink

And brush my teeth

And wash my face

In silence.

 

I do not hear

The creaky floors,

Nor the leaking sink

Nor the gentle rustling

Of clothes as I get changed

 

I march back

To my bedroom,

Oblivious to the echo

Of my feet and

Of my sighs.

 

With a click

I cannot hear,

My implant chirps to life

Blink, blink, blink.

It is ready.

 

I slide the hook

Behind my ear,

Tossing my hair

To let the magnet catch.

Three beeps later,

And the world comes

To life.

 

Nothing is different,

But everything has

Changed.

 

I now walk with

A softer step.

I now close the door

Slowly, to prevent

Its creak.

I now force the faucet

Closed, to stop

That annoying drip.

 

I now look around.

I wonder

At this world

Of sound.