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.

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