Piercing.
My ears,
my heart.
Just brakes,
some junky layabout,
showing off.
“Look at me!
I have a car!”
Good for you.
It’s the sound.
Only a sound,
I know.
But it goes through me.
I jump again,
half out my skin,
no energy to escape it completely.
Nothing new this time,
just remembering.
The squeal,
the cries.
Was that now?
Or then?
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