The cicadas have dulled over this short Spring. At first it was so loud, I'd wake up to their raving, I'd see them scattered all over the place. Numerous times did I have legs, wings and crazed eyes smack into my face. Yet recently, I can't hear them over my head phone. I see them, legs twitching, belly up on my parents driveway. Throwing them out with the water used to clean cars, drowned and floating in the soap suds. There is no amount of cleaning I can do to erase the thought.

I just want to hide in the sky, with all the breathing, living cicadas. But I feel I'm belly up. I don't wanna be belly up.