A speaker


I kept it on mute,
I don’t touch it, move it.
Dust settles on it,
forming more layers
than my emotions can.

I sit across the room
sprawled across the sofa
hoping for the music
to start playing again.

And everything stands still
for hours, days and months.
I don’t move in any attempt
to turn up the volume,
let the music see me
the way I yearn to see music again.

Dust floods my room
as I am still sprawled on
the sofa,
unfeeling, unmoving,
turning into a breathing corpse.

I fill my mouth with doubts,
head unsure,
turning my insides out.
Poison and poison
rushes through my bloodstream
like cocaine.

Not moving a finger
to turn up the dial
of the speaker, of my emotions.
Never allowing the speaker
to shout and regain its voice,
while a haunting silence prevails.

-Taru Gupta


If you like my work, please like, follow, comment and share it. I appreciate any type of feedback in my comment section.

I took me a couple of hours to write this because I had put a mute on my emotions for a really long time. I had simply run out of metaphors to describe my past and was simply just growing frustrated by my lack of feeling. Which is exactly what I talk about in this poem, my lack of effort to sense and register emotions around me now.

Big shoutout to my friend Apoorva for giving me a pang of inspiration in the middle of the night and make me realise that it is high time I change my habits.


Creative Commons License
A speaker by Taru Gupta is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.


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