i blew the speakers out of the
2024 toyota rav4 that i let you trick me into buying. there is now
a slight humming noise that escapes the sound
system in a way that reminds me of your
not so sunny disposition.
it reverberates in the stillness of my
new apartment. i hear it inside
my head. i watch it loop around.

(my neck, your hands)

i see a blinking light at the end of the tunnel, it’s green and it’s still in memory,
ready for playback. i don’t stop at mcdonald’s for fries anymore. i don’t remember how to eat.

i drive my car in silence now.

my brother thinks i write poems about killing john lennon. the truth is it would
be much nicer if the obsession had died by someone else’s hand. instead i write
about how

there’s something ceremonial about cleaning up a blood spill. i’m peering over
the sink to see it swirl down the drain most of the time or try to
figure out if it’s yours or
mine.

this is when close my eyes and
i know lady macbeth weeps
somewhere holding chekhov’s gun
to her head. if i tilt my head
a certain way i see her face in the mirror and you can only
scrub and scrub until
the discoloration is dissolved, but
what if you don’t know how
to get this type of
invisible stain lifted from my threads?

if you figure it out, let me know.

whenever i decide to
stop i’ll be in that car
singing let it be
or yellow submarine
with all those ******
phonies
in my passenger
seat. if you ever listened closely enough, there was always an unsteadiness
to my voice. and
maybe if you are nice to me,
i’ll let you click the button,

(my hands, your mouth)

it’ll be ready for playback.

It's hard to be oneself
the world is too strong
in its persuasion
it will not leave anyone
to be their own

millions of thought-seeds
it has everywhere sown
so many would have
into unwary minds fallen

myself I must save
lest I were to drown
in this polluted zone

by carving my direction
as my boat sails into the unknown
despite the thickest mist ahead
I'll come eventually to my own

Pixels bloom and softly fade,
Digital ghosts in sunlight played.
A fleeting touch, a whispered plea,
Lost in the vast immensity.

We build our worlds of light and code,
But even data finds its road
To entropy, to silent rest—
Another echo, gently blessed.

I won't be there, when you wake,
in my heart, you've drove a stake;
there is no more that I can take,
and so I'm leaving, for My sake.
In your heart, you have grown cold,
it's to another,  you've been "sold";
you are too brazen and too bold,
alas, there's nothing more to hold.
I'm too **** sick, of all your lying,
well past the point, of simply crying;
long way past, the trials of trying,
now, I feel like... it's all dying.
You treated me like worthless trash,
my dreams and goals you've bashed;
you only wanted jewels and cash,
it's no wonder, I feel lashed.
You've broken every cherished vow,
but to your wishes, I'll not bow;
I'm going to up, and leave you now,
and I'll survive, just don't know how.

Everything around me is falling apart,
and I am trying my best to hold it together,
but I only have two hands.

He sat there
on the edge of my bed,
playing with the strings
on his guitar,
stringing me along.

Pulling me closer
with his voice,
beautifully bruised,
carrying me in.

The moonlight complementing
his every note,
every inch of him.

Buried diep.
Lost within a fantasy.
Lost in this room
with a melody,
and a voice
so addictive.

He sat there,
smoke and moonlight,
playing his guitar.