hum. (mine)

awash in a sea of sensation,
ethereal and ephemeral and on the tip of your tongue,
i stagnate.
i toss and turn and i throw myself at every contradiction and every concept that breaches the surface tension,
but i stay there, unmoving and still.
in my little room with my little television and a little hope, wholly unfounded and forever unfulfilled.
all the sounds in the world pitter-patter against my four walls and vibrate my skull in two.
i listen out close for your voice in the TV static,
for you to whisper my name through the handset,
maybe if i adjust the antenna,
a little left, back a few degrees, spin it around,
anything i could possibly try, i’ll try.
i listen out close for your voice in the TV static.
my cheek is pressed to the screen,
i feel the heat from every bulb and i see the subdivisions in the colours in the pixels,
i can feel everything.
awash in a sea of sensation, i feel the gentle fingertips of god herself trace down my jawline,
i hear her hum into my ear, a hymn i could never find a name to,
all the stimuli i could possibly need,
all the stimuli is just one more thing getting in the way.
i’ll tune it out like i always do, like i always have to
just tune it out and listen close to the static and hope to hear you say you’re sorry.
listen closer on a whim, maybe, to hear you say you’re proud of me.
take a sledgehammer to the screen and put my head inside the hole,
listen as close as i possibly can to see if you’ll finally say you love me again.
while you’re at it, could you tell me how to plug this thing in?