Humming Through the Static

The clock melted again. It swore it wouldn't this time. But time's a

liar, or maybe just bad at commitment. I keep trying to fold the

sky into smaller thoughts, but the edges keep catching on. Yesterday's regrets,

they hum like fluorescent lights in a dream that won't power down.

There's a hum under everything. Like the Earth's got tinnitus and the moon's

pretending she doesn't notice. I once saw silence blink right before it

said, "You again?" Every mirror I pass feels like it's buffering.

The reflection's late to the conversation. That's okay. I'm late to most things,