What’s on your mind?

I like to answer this question that nobody asks.
Repetitive sentences that elevate my self indulgence
The Internet was created for me
And only me

And I love that I can hang up on a recording of Tom Waits in New York,
My telephone is bringing me into this wave, into this limbo, into this lost sea,
Of meaningless progress,
Because we’re all still starving in some way or another.

What’s on my mind?
I woke up with a heartache on my temple
And a slight twitch and ache in my eye
That I suspect is a young aneurysm
Hiding in that throb behind my skull

What’s on my mind?
When I was seven, I wrote a letter to my father
I told him I was planning to run away
I don’t think he read it but all I remember was his speeding palm.
I nervously craved for the palm of your hand because it was the only way.

What’s on my mind?
That “feminine mystique” that I lack
Because pale is in and thin is in
And I’m brown forever
And I’ve been thick since I was a kid

What’s on my mind?
I wrote out the letters that sent this message:
Happy Belated Birthday.
Because I am stubborn and a fool
But I didn’t respond to your: Thank You.

What’s on my mind?
That all the stories I know
That all the stories I’ve met
That all the stories I will meet and know
That I know how they end.

What’s on my mind?
How everyone falls in love but me
This immunity that I posses
Can easily break down when The Ronnettes play
But then I think, weddings built on songs, expire within 3 years.

What’s on my mind?
The photographs on my wall are dead
There was a picture of you
There was a picture of love now defunct
There were words from D.C. now meaningless

And there was a picture of a seventeen year old me
Without a phone. Without a credit card. Virginity still in tact.
A photograph taken by a camera with film
Exposed in a dark room and processed and given to me.

There are dead words on my wall
There are dead philosophies on my wall
There are dead technologies on my wall
There is dead love on my wall.

Whats on your mind?

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