Bright stage lights,
adrenaline rush,
ear-splitting screams
for my little rocker—
not so little now.

I see her on the big screen,
but I remember
when she cried—
stinging fingertips,
frustrated fretboard fights—
couldn’t get the chords quite right.

Then she learned her first riff,
played it on repeat
seven days a week.

I watched you
take down the posters in your room,
pack your amp in a beat-up case.
I stood in the driveway,
watched the cab pull away—
rain streaming down the windows,
deep breath, hands shaking.
You didn’t look back—
and I hope you never do.
You had bigger places to be.

A buzz,
and a roar—
the first chord rings out,
wild screams echo,
and I’m just one in the crowd.
You don’t see me anymore, but
through all the noise,
I was your first fan.

I sit next to this girl
who plays the bass
like it owes her something,
head hung low
with chipped black fingernails
and untamed curls
that unfurl around her face.

I hear iron maiden playing
through her headphones
as she taps her fingers
to the beat.
She never seems to smile,
though she has the most beautiful
kohl rimmed brown eyes.

But back home,
she smiles at her little brother
and spins him around.
She takes song requests
on little sheets of paper
from sticky hands,
and she’ll play them all
just for him.

She writes him stories of
heroes and hope,
then tucks him in tight,
and disappears to her room
where she’ll write all night,
the things
she’ll never
say out loud.

A boy frolics in a field of forget-me-nots
to the song in his heart.
Spinning, spinning, spinning…
until he falls in love with the music.

Rolling down hills to rolling up joints
and picking up a guitar.
The music crescendos…
His life has just begun.

The guitar is played daily.
Sitting on the front stoop,
amplifier plugged in—
a concert for the block.

Time continues to tick.
Life is getting hard.
The guitar is forsaken
just when he needs it most.

Making music no longer,
he turns to substance.
Spinning, spinning, spinning
out of control.

He needs the pain
to go away.
Needles at night
and sleep by day.

The man is tired
and lonely
as the endless darkness
inside him.

When the veil between worlds is thinnest
the man slips away
and finally
he finds his peace.

Noise-synced delirium
Acidic injection
objection! Too loud
impassive perception's
important to render the silk from the fiend
The synths coming at you
with sawing and beams
and there, pristine
the song of the axe
the splitting of atoms
they're tuning the parallax
revving the tendon
the chord they depend on
the pipe of the warlord
and howl of the warhorde, stampeding
pounding the earth it's a drum
and the thrum of the piper
who's flashing his guns
and valkyries, mounted,
join in the rush
and then hush
the clouds seizing
the chance to combust
and to shed a tear
or a thousand drops
of ecstasy
onto the trampled crops.

Synchronize my family
and feed them to the wind
let their fevered hearts glow bright
upon my wired wings.

Anaesthetize paralysis
indulge in wave analysis
and stomp your feet and pump your fist
upon my wired wings.

Send the signal from the ground
to the twisting ceiling
that's when the feelings bounce around
upon my wired wings

You're flying out on gifts of fire
and living on the wind
so crank it up and find the wire
that leads to sonic wings.

Shower in the sea of wishes
hear the mountains sing.
When wind coils and earth fissures
beside re-wired beings.

I love his sound
the sound of his guitar,
plugged in and ringing after him.
I love the sound of his finger plucking the strings,
bouncing off and vibrating.
I love all instruments,
all kinds of genres and songs,
but my favorite song is the one where his guitar plays.

sing infinite magic,
magic infinite sign

guitar ∞ shape ∞ masterpieces
one by one

i have a tinder profile
will that make any difference
no it wont
i play the guitar
does anyone care NO
i am an artist
nobody gives a crap

i smoke a cigarette
OH WE LOVE YOU
DONT DO THAT TO YOUR LUNGS

i wanna get invited to one high school event
is that too much to ask for
doesn't matter
gonna **** my self anyways