Listening to Sek Loso and Thom Yorke
back to back with my earphones on.
I can really feel them creep in between my ears
into the deep inner depths of my head.
The words I do not understand drill around my insides.
The song and sounds blending.
My skull is a vessel of green and purple goo,
and I smell fish food.
I smell medicated oil.
I smell issey miyake perfume.
"Oh, you suck the blood out of me.
Then you take me to the emporium,
but not to pantip for sure.
Today it is raining. The flan in my face, help me call a doctor, put me inside put me inside put me inside. Will you know that I cannot sleep tonight?"
I widen my eyes with the sudden relevation:
my entire life is a waste of time compared to the drag of love in their voices.
Oh, am I too bored and lifeless?
For this dread is surely, surely, surely unintended?
Did you know you would have this magic over me?
My heartstrings cramp when you sing what you sing.
The resonance resounds in my empty sadness.
Oh, if I loved myself I would surely cry?
Even I do not understand how or why.
Perhaps we all sound too alone
to me and I don't want to die
heart unbroken on my own.
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