I want to have a slow dance

to the rapid, calm and fragile rhythms of my breaths

to the song humming with every beat of my heart

all by myself

in a dim lighted room

and there

I dance to the wondering ghosts

and there…

would be a sizzling sound 
in my head

like how the heat sounds

like how my grandfather’s radio sounds

in my head

ruining my head

like my oldest childhood nightmare

and I…

I could die, 
but I don’t…

and I…

listen to

what the wild silence is telling me

and I

I start to treasure existence


It’s my defeated battle

to kill all the doubts

it’s my defeated battle

that makes my soul so old;

as old as the trees

so young;

as young as a bird that didn’t learn to fly

I fight to die worthy

for that I wish to have things

rather than them have me

I want to know

how it feels to know

To think that I don’t want no more,
in all of this big old world…