my house hums with broken wires
every plan short-circuits
before the switch clicks on

people touch me and spark,
burn their hands,
walk away smelling of smoke

so I stay ghostlike
pressing mute on every connection
watching the ceiling peel,
watching time drip slow

my body’s an old machine,
stuck between stations,
buzzing static where music should be

still, in the noise,
I keep tuning,
hoping one day
the song comes through