I keep the volume low.
Your ghost still pings sometimes,

I scroll for warmth in plastic light,
each face repeats the same good night.
No blood, no pulse, just patterned waves,
we’re data ghosts pretending grace.

I feel your name behind the screen,
it fades before it ever breathes.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Every feed’s a mirror, cracked but clean,
every thought recycled, machine to machine.
If I’m alive, it’s by design —
a loop that ends where I confide.

We dream in numbers, sleep in codes,
love translated into modes.
Your typing stops — that’s how I know
the algorithm let you go.

I see your shadow in the scroll,
too perfect to be whole.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Every feed’s a mirror, cracked but clean,
every thought recycled, machine to machine.
If I’m alive, it’s by design —
a loop that ends where I confide.

We are the crowd,
we are the code.
Lonely together,
never alone.

Touch me through my digital skin,
tell me I’m real before I log in.
Erase the silence, fake the sin,
love me once before I begin.

The page refreshes,
and I’m gone again.


Digital skin (Alternative Rock reload)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

New tracks tagged #Digital Wave