The Static Between Stations Part 2
The noise Between Stations Part 2
Every morning I wake with the same numb ache
Mouth full of old sleep and a stomach that starts to break
Crawling through the gray fog where the routine gets fed
While the hunger for anything real is left for dead. I stare at the mirror
counting every crack
Eyes dull as a screen when the power cuts back
Pull on the tired clothes, shuffle down the hall
Wading through dust that refuses to fall.
The kettle hisses a warning I never heed
Toast burns and I let it, I don’t feel the need
Coffee tastes like cardboard, the news is just noise
I eat the silence
like a child with broken toys. In the car
I drive the route I’ve driven for years
Fingers locked at ten and two, grinding the gears
Red lights blur together, a parade of ghosts
Heading nowhere new, giving up the posts.
I’m stuck in the noise between stations
Lost in the dead air of daily frustrations
Can’t tell if I’m humming or faking the sound
Just dragging my shadow across the ground.
I punch the clock with a hand that feels loaned
Sit at a desk, type my login, totally zoned
Meetings and emails, faces and chatter, I fake a laugh
but none of it matters. Lunch is a sandwich I barely even taste
Scrolling through headlines, time going to waste
Messages pile up, a pointless race
A thousand reminders I’m losing my place.
Afternoon stretches in a flickering light
Measuring my worth in lists that aren’t right
Pretending I’m moving, but I’m stuck in the mist
Just another number on a forgotten list.
I drive home in twilight, radio dead
Can’t tell the difference between the road and my head
Unlock the door, drop the bag by the stairs
Kick off the shoes
ignore the empty chairs. Dinner is plastic on a cold
hard plate, Chewing with my mouth closed
hiding from fate, The TV blares nonsense
I let it all in
Easier than thinking about where to begin.
Night falls heavy, I strip off the day
Stare at the ceiling, let the mind drift away
Sleep comes in fits, a blank, heavy sheet
I wake up tomorrow and repeat the beat. I keep breathing
keep moving, but nothing’s alive
Just a body trying to survive the dive
Searching for a signal in the dust and the fume
But all that remains is the hum of this room.