How lost
I must be
That all this
Digital noise
Makes so much sense to me
That I can quite casually
Comment
On my soul aching
My heart breaking
My restless empire of dreams
All in a brief moment
The flick if a wrist
Ashing a cigarette
I don’t want to smoke
How lost I must be
That I imagine
My eyes are smoldering
My lips probably
Don’t quiver with desire
My lust is misplaced fire
I am touched
Only
By the violence
Of my own mundane
That these four boys on TV
Can tell my story
Eloquently
Where is the me
That is only me?
Where is my I
My singular?
No I don’t want the euphoria
Of your shared history
I don’t want to be
In this choir
Where is my song?
My language
My Fire?
