what is the sound of survival

must must must must must MUST

because you cannot run from it
you grow into someone untouchable must must must must
racing up the Metro escalator mustmustmustmustcantstop

we burns, we’re the sound of survival

did we make it- we did.
we are not burns now but scars
we are not open but closed
we have stopped the fear from engulfing
we have made the escape from our former singed selves

our sound is a tiny voice that whispers ‘I am safe’
our sound is not one that many hear
to hear us you must first see
although you would not have to see us to know
the arms we flank are those of a woman beyond the self she thought

our sound, we make changes

when we were born we brayed- hissssss hisss zap
when we lived we cowered- shhh shhh cover
when we died, only then did we speak: must must must

when we oozed like lava you thought we would only crust like a volcano but now you see
we have made our own landmarks

we know we will not hiss again for why should we
we will never be the present
but the past put on pale skin

silent.

doing laundry at your parents’ house, millenial age 28

if I leave it in
the dryer will my mom see
and fold it for me?

it was never going to work but

I do, however,
not regret the brief time when
we bought a toaster.

Katherine Leavy has written haikus and free verse poetry since high school and was named “most likely to become a traveling poet” by her classmates. She holds a B.A. in English Literature from John Carroll University and an M.Ed from Saint Joseph’s University. Currently, Katherine is a 7th and 8th grade English teacher in Philadelphia, where she resides. She is interested in the intersection of body and culture, pithy but quirky haikus, and creating sound studies within free verse poetry. In her spare time, Katherine trains for marathons and curates two Instagram accounts that delve into the poignant aesthetics of decay.