Stuck
in nowhere,
I hear the sound of
Explosions, of white noise
and false glory; stuck in
nowhere,
I remember you with sweetness,
with faded gloss
and dynamic static;
tell me
please,
I implore,
where did it go so right for you,
what point in time
did you become
so perfect
on the eye
and when did the scar
of all you had killed to get there
become rigid
and filled with pus
and decay.