numbers trace the signal
electric clues to the source
hints of reminiscence
a garish glimpse of remorse
an empty text of long life in the living
partially paused in plastic places
twisting fiction of memory
hollow names and backward faces
if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could make me feel
my missing you
is just a way of looking for something out there real
but i have found a way around it
with scattered words and misplaced humility
the disconnect my only grounding
when all i know is my own fragility
the dust, electric in its transport
now claims new eyes unseen
blinking slow in patterns blurred
sterilized yet never really clean
a generation on the edge of ending
cynicism, a regulated response to fear
connections, one island to another
listen loudly to the static of one deafened ear
synchronize the angst and agony
smiling synonyms rushed to end for pictures’ sake
post another pastime on a pleading public
perchance they writhe under the winsome wake
so much for breathing
too many hands to hold within
a deft and a dashing
mistake, missing the very feel of skin
if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could turn the tide
my leaving you
is just a way of running from the hope you held inside
i couldn’t find a way around it
with shattered hearts, declarations of futility
my deepest desire now dead here surrounding
when all i know is my own fragility
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