Dead Air Space

Her mouth was this sucking, gaping hole, that pulled everyone around her apart. They felt layers of their skin peel off and submerge into her blackness, with little stars to see. It wasn’t long until they stopped speaking all together, she’d stolen their voices with her own, and made them quiet. 

 

So quiet. 

 

So quiet was the night-times of her mouth, where the moon was swept behind clouds and only cicadas chirped. That’s what her voice sounded like, the cicadas that had lived underground for so long, that when they breathed the air and fucked in a frenzy they screamed just to hear their own echo before they couldn’t scream at all. They screamed so hard they killed themselves and fell out of their own skins. 

 

She was afraid of being buried so yapped all she could, to anyone, to no one, to her own teeth and tongue and lips and she stole all other screams so hers was the loudest. She screamed so she didn’t forget her own skin.