still in memory; ready for playback
by dissolveintoyou
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 trying 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 temple. 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 it i’ll be in that car i
hate so much singing let it be
or yellow submarine
with all those fuckin
phonies in my passenger
seat. if you ever listened closely enough, there has 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)
i think it’ll be ready for playback.