the psychic left the stratosphere, moved out past the vibrations of the painful, set her rocket to low orbit behind the rings of Neptune
blocked from the subwoofing of the future, the rumbling of the slouching of the spiraling downwards, earthquakes draining clockwise
protected from premonitions, the tremors of incoming terror
the full force of the outcome of events
she floats, swimming in the silence of shadows
bathed in the vacuum---she heard them not listening
she heard the echoes bounce off back to the beginning from the end
the low tone of doom
hell is a decibel
hell is a decibel & she chose to hide out between tones
she left
she left them so that when they fell
there would be no one around to hear
her rocket, borne to the skies on the ripples of individuals' ignorance
now sits in the ink
she saw the future
& that's why she left
she saw the future
she saw them fall
but worst of all
she saw herself not save them
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