the mid-morning d.j.s

the ringing in my ears changes key
and the voices in my head sing to me
of all the past i choose not to see
yes, all those latent memories

at first in pleasant, playful tones
then somber whispers and mournful moans
collapsing upon a field of screams
to twist and tear my mind from dreams

this pirate radio broadcasts sin
pushing and pulling and forcing spin
tempting with tastes of resolved regret
only to laugh when i cannot forget

these mid-morning d.j.s taunt without shame
focusing on formulating ghastlier games
to keep me in awe of my awkward mistakes
to keep me in pain, to keep me awake

this sleeplessness tortures to unspeakable degrees
while my judges amuse their curiosity
i’m their puppet in a play with no audience
in a theater on fire with my past ignorance

they dance me around on a cruel, twisted stage
and they’re only empowered with my heightening rage
so i can only pray that i never lose touch
but these mid-morning d.j.s... they talk way too much