Grunge

My gift of selfish rage

seeps beneath the coils
of an indifference 

never met.

By anyone,
still something must understand,
and feel the band
that interlocks the tides
between turbulence 

and the sand.

Answer me now
and listen through waves,
communicate
somehow through language
forever estranged.

Hear the cold,
the rush to adrenaline
and back again,
say hello to the dark,
the Black,
a generation left alone,
remembered 

is a time unknown.