poem: song lyrics

i listened to marina & the diamonds before, in
frosted hell, i found the corresponding
subculture – i curled in the in-between
small bed, not in a room but a corridor and you know
i think you could be right that purgatory is
phenomenological or at least our concept of
it, is — anyway i was stripped out to eva before
i knew what “femcel” meant, i masturbated to sadness
and narratives. when you’re Alone time ceases to exist
but it also crawls inside you, the Body/Time/Death is just
your hands, your face in the moon outside
where you do not go. but i am angry, temporarily, because
the novella deserves a close read i am
moving on! i have converted — i will never write
poetry — it is always (title track), it is always
the turbulent years rooted inside me making
the best.