Lyric

Roses scattered on the linoleum floor

One single drop sliding down my cheek once more

Neo-new mystery virus in the air

My brainwaves blink cute, coded symbolism there

Synapses spoiled, slap bass petting my nerves

I swallow electromagnetic curves

Buzzing digits, shockwaves, Fibonacci spills

Static crawling my spine, little math-shaped thrills

I go deep, log in, access the core

An unpleasant soundwave carnival roar

They line up in silence like a funeral march

Mute as coffins beneath a collapsed sonic arch

Idiots

I only clean up those fluent in sneers

One hit, I crush them straight through the ears

All the way in, past the drum, past the skin

If this track gets loud, that’s the signal to begin

One finger flick—flyswatter finesse

You might hate this track if you can’t glitch or regress

If you can’t bug out, if you can’t lose control

This frequency probably bruises your soul

I steal the night, bleach it white, stick it into a vase

That ritual someday seals my room in endless late

Midnight only here, nowhere else to be

I overdose on darkness, neurosis eats me

I’ll put a gun to my head, pull thought through lead

Yeah, someday this brain’ll just paint itself red

This is stolen starlight—call it Rigel-blue

Beautiful, right?

No

It’s ugly too

Shift from B to C-flat, feel the gravity slide

Go learn how to write poems starting from dying inside

A hundred years lonely? You’re a millennium late

Reincarnate and come back the day before yesterday

Drunk on culture-stink, literary perfume

Electric brandy rotting softly in my skull’s back room

Popcorn clogging the thoughts, white noise in my veins

Cheap stimulation chewing holes in my brains

Tear-gas melancholy, eyes sting, vision blur

Between love and romance—I split the difference, sir

Not much to either, just barely alive

Thirty-one characters, all uppercase, fired

This isn’t a letter, it’s a public detonation

A tweet-length scream with poetic calibration

I don’t want comfort, I don’t want truth

I want impact sharp enough to chip your tooth

So crank it louder till the silence caves in

Till your inner ear feels the pressure sink in

If you survive it, congrats, you’re awake—

If not, sorry kid, wrong bug to fake