454. 13/3/16 (#446)
they replay on the cassette tape
that runs through my plastic heart.
And as I listen I am pulling
until the memories
are ripped and torn apart.
And what is left gets put together
in the wrong order
and gets tangled around my veins.
Until not a single second means anything,
but sadness, tears
and confusion still remain.
And now just a single sound
is looped again
and again in darker shades.
So I'll listen to my old screams
and wait for the new ones (on a compact disc) to form.