The Noise In My Head

I hate your noise in my head

the way you hated the noises

in yours.

Your power and your weakness

left me struggling for breath

in clear air.

Your darkness gathers in corners

under an old lampshade and speaks

with a knife edge.

Electric shock made nothing new

your will broke in waves

and we into silvered shards.

Your grim song wove moonlight

then fire across time

and a floor empty of dance.

I hate your ideal face

with its bullet hole

reflected in polaroid forests.