trauma sounds

Is it the old wiring buzzing,

some frayed knot, loosely bundled

in asbestos-filled cotton candy,

eager to spark?

Or those damn energy efficient

light bulbs bought a decade ago

with their morbid sense of color,

that glow immortal, haunting

with every mirror-glance?

Maybe it’s the breaker,

wires overloaded,

overworked current,

exhausted, making sense of tragedy?

Flip the switch.

The buzzing is gone,

and so is the light.