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!