Kairosclerosis ✔ [poetry]

menticide

13

MENTICIDE

⸻

it's merely a white noise.

some days, louder than others.

you hear them everywhere:

on endless social media feed,

and the tv, at the dining table with your family.

in classroom assignments,

and at a pub, where the news channels are put on down low.

they lurk, out the corner of your eyes:

stiff, ironed suits, nice make-ups,

looking straight into the cameras,

mouth moving like they've something important to show.

words, as pretty as their faces,

smiles, as harmless as they look.

unnoticeable, as vicious as they become.

they are always in your head.

shifting.

subtle probes,

here and there.

flipping through the television channels of your memories;

turning the volume;

fiddling with the screen brightness.

adjusting things around

ever so slightly,

every so often.

but you've learnt to leave them be,

for they're a white noise,

nothing more,

nothing less.

it wouldn't matter, nonetheless.

you,

your head,

wasn't yours.

wasn't yours to begin with.

surely, wasn't yours anymore.

your tv,

your memories,

already altered to their liking.

imprinted and branded

with their handprints and grins.

better not say a thing.

you had stopped trying to hide the remote,

stopped changing the channels back to what you remembered from before,

left the sound and the brightness on low.

if they catch you slipping, they will lock you up.

hold you down,

pin you tight.

claws choking your throat.

heavy chains segment you into sections,

anchor you in place.

big, fat lies force themselves into you

pumping in and out at a brutal pace.

you won't be able to keep up.

can't process the information,

can't understand what's going on.

you still remember the first time it happened.

you sobbed and cried

while the shape of their nails and shackles sear

into bleeding scars and purpling bruises on your thighs and mind.

blazing scratch trails tore your skin apart

was their tender love marks,

their acute reminder:

listen to them,

and them only.

those foreign, different noises will harm you.

that's true.

it took time

for your cries and their hysterical laughter to quiet down,

leaving dead channels hissing at the back of your brain.

it took time before you can bear seeing them everywhere again;

for the alterations of your memories felt less like a raping of your mind and more like

an intentional, curious breeze,

monitoring you, from afar.

it took time before you can finally

tell yourself, once again:

it's merely white noise.

some days, louder than others.