Two boys,
two similar tastes,
a million different C.D.s.  

The cacophony
of chords and riffs
reverberates down the hallway
and creeps mercilessly
into the lone retreat
of my bedroom.  

Twenty-one Pilots
and U2
and Rush
are all well and good…
in moderation.
By themselves.
Turned down.
Way,
way,
way, 
down.