January twenty-seventh, two thousand eleven:

Equivocal recollections coerce me to stay alone

While pearlescent chains twirl around my neck,

Performing a ritual dance that no one knows.

Nocturnal notions fabricate the peregrination

To nonexistent stability and find paper boats

That carry burdens from forbidden dreams—

Anchors cannot submerge under wistful waves.

I am your arsonist who consumes the flames.

Watch me incinerate naiveté on the ground,

Devouring the hollow reveries you’ve sought.

Can you hear the vociferous songs I whisper?