Threshold


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.

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