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?