Everyday, I’m bombarded
With her useless sermons
Which fill the once tranquil air
With the din of negativity.
The drums in my ears are close to ruin
With her single thunder-like release
“Threshold of pain”— my teacher said,
“the loudest intensity we could manage to hear.”
Even how hard I cover my C-shaped organ,
Still, that painful sound overrides.
I feel the pang travel
from my ears,
to my head,
to my heart,
to my innermost soul.
My eyes moisten; my heart cramps.
Earplugs do no help.
That was long ago,
When my auditory perceptual system still functions,
When I was still sensitive,
When the sole thing I knew is to partake her yells.
Now, I feel numb,
Resistant to all those high-fidelity amplifiers.
Now, I could hear her before thunder-like preachment
As soft and incomprehensible whispers.
the longer, the fainter…
It was her fault.
She deafened me.
I should have talked back to halt her.
I should have become an escapist.
“Threshold of hearing”—
I could recall from my Physics teacher.