Radio Man sings of bruised euphoria
And I hate him.
For narrating this string of passing scenes
So incisively;
For stealing my chance
To name my pain
So effectively, I pass
Inattentively
Through small victories:
A drive on the highway, another pound lost, a promotion.
Surveying the ache for white flags, daily
But my hands always come back red
...and other Ideations 