Concetta depresses

an aluminum slat

of blind

with her forefinger and

gazes into the street,

numb to the snap

of solitude.

Bare feet pass

by her shoebox window

broken, at eye-level,

thriving on nude routine.

She stifles a yawn

and clicks her tongue

in the rear of her cheek

to deactivate

the alarm chip

embedded

into her cochlea,

illegally programmed

with thirty seconds

of her own voice.

The voice she had

before being sentenced

to a life

of silence

..............for wearing clothes

..........................and singing

a cappella

in an ‘instrumental zone.’

She wasn’t

even busking

that day,

but on route to

an interview

to be the Queen’s

personal music box.

The Queen

is a man

with five fingers and toes.

Newborns only have four.

She swallows

a build-up

of thyme-flavoured saliva

from the tea she drinks

to soothe her throat

and buckles

in pain.

The immune

assistants strapped her to

a chair, forced

her mouth

open

and slashed

her vocal chords.

Surgically

perforated

her eardrums.

The taste of toxic sweat

still lingers on her gums

even more than the memory

of torturers’ penises

rubbing against

her blindfolded face

and ejaculating

into her wounds.

Now

all she hears

is the numb rush

of water in her ears ...

fit to drown

in,

sink

in,

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Genre – Cyberpunk / Dystopian / Short Story in Verse

Rating – PG13

More details about the author & the book

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Website http://www.jessicabellauthor.com/