The news, by Jake Wild Hall

I am not a silent poet

When the news came the sympathetic hum of the fridge was no more comfort than a ….plaster to a bullet wound.
There was an aggressive amount of condensation on the window sill and you could tell if ….it wasn’t cleaned it would turn to mould.
A butterfly came out of its cocoon only to be hit by the smile of a child’s aeroplane. How ….only one of life and laughter came out able to fly.
A man got drunk on the unusual taste of happiness, only to realise when the grey clouds ….returned he was much more at home there.
There was a crack in the wall and I was caught in its repetitive gaze, the noise it looked at ….you with was a cacophony of beeps.
There was a maelstrom that turned to pure white noise.
There was a gunshot that could be heard…

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