Keep Your Shouts to a Minimum, I’m Trying to Sleep

Performed at the Tea Lounge in Brooklyn, “I’m in a long distance band. But they aren’t here. So its just me, and this song, which is now just a poem. Enjoy.”

-Song for the Liberal Arts band-

 

I don’t want to hear your voice,

a voice,

any voices.

I don’t want to hear anything at all.

I don’t want background noise

it’s my choice.

don’t talk to me.

Fuck off.

Fuck.

This.

I don’t want to see your shadow,

lurking around in my mind;

I’m hot, sweating, wet

with anger

bitters, no olives

I ran out of drinks to make.

I don’t want to see your reflection,

a reflection,

my reflection;

turn it off.

Fuck.

They say I’m wistful

how polite;

I’m morose, a ghost

what they mean to say is I’m off.

Fuck.

-repeat-

I don’t want to hear your song

my song

this song.

the whispers of your memory are enough.

Published by Kristyn Potter

Founder of Left Bank Media. Editor of Left Bank Magazine. Copywriter. I write about music, and New York mostly.

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