Hum

I hum away your existence
Like brushing a thought
Or shaking away a memory
There are days when it was easy
To pick you with two fingers
And toss your soiled words
In my head, there are just
Colors and whites
No wools, or lint or rubberized prints
But you stain your way
From my mouth to my favorite shirt
Like hair dye that reeks of oxygenated ego
And my verbs no longer feel like
Linking coherence, with you
Pausing like a comma between every spaces