I’m a D E A F poet

Well, half deaf I should say

Shoot, sometimes being half deaf has its perks

When my sister’s acting crazy
Look who’s got
Two thumbs and can stick one in her ear
to block her out?
This girl

Earphones? Try earphone.
You know how many pairs of Beats I’ve been given
By folks ‘cause they play on one side?

When they say “these don’t work right”
I say “Huh”

I’m already noddin to Lauren Hill, I can’t hear em

But it’s not all roses

When I say

I suffer from single sided deafness

Others say “at least you can hear!”

As if to tell me my struggles aren’t real

As if I don’t have to

Read your lips

Harder than my favorite book

Pull your words towards me

With all the strength I have

Each syllable a boulder

Like I don’t long for the moments stolen as I was

plunged into a chasm of silence

I’m always left craving a little more

of each delicious conversation.

Yearning to hear footsteps as you do

Sets of steps to me sound like

-Silence- STOMP -silence- STOMP.

To be a deaf poet is to hear half the applause

To see the word “congratulations” mouthed merrily from happy faces

only share in half of well wishes

It’s a life of overstimulation and narrow misses.

My left ear

Has made me utter the word

“huh” more than it would care to admit

Huh…sometimes I hate that word

Reminds this ear it can’t do it’s job

Left ear’s puzzled by the prospect of laughter

Curious about the sound of sickness

The rattling that rumbles through my skull each time

I cough

Is not enough

To let it understand the sensation

When I stick an earphone in

The bass unaccompanied by sound

Pokes fun at my eardrum

With every thump

Leaving leftie

Feeling numb

You know, sometimes

My right ear envies my left

With no one to share the burden with

My right ear is the single mother of sound

Abandoned suddenly

Expected to shoulder every responsibility

But every once in awhile, a wind will whip my ears

Teasing my left with it’s silent tickle

Projecting a whisper of light onto the unending quiet

While filling my right with the whooshing sounds

You associate with magic

And I’m reminded that sometimes

My experiences can only have been what they were

Because of who I am

Because in that moment I recognize

That sometimes, half is all you need

To be wholly extraordinary

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