My roommate wants a different version of me— one who doesn’t leave her hearing aids on the charger when she makes her morning coffee. I’d like if she didn’t see me as only my missing parts. Am I even missing parts anyway? My hearing aids are just accessories. Extra. As a child, I chose them in beige. I wanted them to camouflage into my body, even though they forced my ears into elfin protrusion. Now, I decorate them with holographic stickers. I wear my hair pulled back in butterfly clips. I run into Ilya Kaminsky at a smoothie shop in Harvard Square an hour after he signs my book at Woodberry. And every morning, I return to my room with my coffee. I sit at my desk, let my cat inspect the mug. Write with the silence of my ears, listen only to my thoughts.
Allison Zaczynski (she/her) is a deaf poet. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from Lesley University. Her poems have been included in Epistemic Lit, The Hooghly Review, Hog River Press, Yoga Journal, and Freshwater Poetry Journal. Allison placed twice in the Asnuntuck Community College Student Poetry Contest, winning third place in 2011, judged by Sue Ellen Thompson, and an honorable mention in 2012 judged by former Connecticut Poet Laureate Dick Allen.
Are you looking for editorial feedback? SWWIM’s editors offer commentary on 3-6 pages of poetry. Submit here!
SWWIM Every Day is now accepting poetry translations for publication consideration. Please see swwim.org/submit for the full guidelines.
Are you a SWWIMmer with literary news to share (publication/feature/award/book/book review)? We’d love to shout out your accomplishments in our Weekly Spotlight! Please email swwimmiami@gmail.com with a link to your news. (No DMs on any social media platforms, please.)
Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter/X, and Bluesky for more updates—and visit our website to see past, present, and future readings & events.
**We do our best to preserve the integrity of each poem; however, due to programming limitations, some poems may read differently on a mobile phone and in certain browsers. For best viewing, use Chrome on a desktop/laptop.
"I'd like it if she didn't see me as only my missing parts..." I love that line. I am HOH, and my coworkers have had no compassion about my difficulty hearing. It's separated me. They don't have the time to repeat themselves. I am more than my missing parts... thank you.