The Radio Speaks
Some days, psychosis can be a fun secret.
Even during those times where the pain was direct.
Sometimes, those memories track me down.
My reality shifts, and so does the sound.
But what I could make out from the static-
Turns me starlit and erratic.
Is that cold front a new clue?
Is the weatherman’s voice trying to imbue?
Nonsense translates into the hope I seek.
I wonder if this is a wakeful peak.
I wish to share the magic from the void.
But they say this psychosis I should avoid!
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