I am a static being,
Words
And thoughts
Drifting through my head,
Buzzing
Without any meaning
My limbs itch for motion
But nothing feels right
So instead I sit,
Listening to the buzz,
Noiseless sound
And wishing
That just once-
I could tune in to real life.

It's two a.m. and I'm lying in bed
trying to get to sleep
trying to get to you
or maybe to things that used to be

I lie wide awake
looking into the darkness
my mind is static
blank but buzzing
with thoughts
with feelings
with memories

The window is open
my feet are sticking out
they're as cold as the tight clench of my heart at the thought of you
I cover to warm up
but the iciness remains

Numb to the facts
I'm immune to this
second-guessing confusions
the answers I once had
colliding in my head
catch fire exploding
even without hesitation
nothing I can do to stop it
once saw the pictures
glimpses of a hopeful future
but now adjusting an antenna
sitting
watching my reflection
reflecting failing
my view I can't put it in perspective
fog maybe snow
clouding my view
all I'm getting is static
The fallout taking over my screen
pounding my head til my knuckles bleed
I don't flinch
I can't feel anything
there's no tears
already on the floor at my side
uncertain of what lies ahead
speaking of the future as if it were already past tense
I broke my own heart I'm dying.
Gave into letting go
A single memory falls off my cheek
Chest barely rising
watching this blurry scene
My past the only one who remembers
What it was like
when I used to be me

In between the vibrancy that spills from the here and now,
memory tapers like ribbons

Your face is a noise,
grey and faded in my mind
like the static of a lost TV channel

It's a remembrance out of focus but never gone
The noise of it's crackling spins in the background

I ignore the pained feeling of your image disappearing
for your essence was never lost
It sparks like a static charge
electrify my skin
settling the spirit

Staring at the static scream
Of the ******* box
And silently scream;
Trapped in this paradox

Because silents screams
Aren't heard, but seen
Repeating patterns erratic
I lose myself to static.

Sitting still and doing nothing
is not an option when motion is impending

if it appears that
my poems lack conviction,
it's because they do.

my words: white noise on
a radio brain, and i
can't change the station.