I want to extract the good from everyone
And swallow it in a pill.

I want a concentrated hero,
But I can't think straight.

I want to make one
Deep
Ringing
Cut
When I exercise my will

But all my ones and zeros
Won't translate.

Against the silence that howls my flesh
I see rotating colors--
Maybe painting anything in the sky
Makes you a hero in your own right

I like the dissonant music of secrets hidden in your purse.

I have to go,
I'm being pursued by them again.
We'll catch up later
And things will be different.