The hair that won’t unstick
from my fingertips
and metaphors
that are too flimsy to shout
but the masses shout
I’m trying too hard
He is intelligent and misunderstood
but she is playing
the bored housewife role
how cute
to dress her words with meaning
What were you wearing when your veins collapsed?
Lost the will to link your heart and your hands?
Did you dress yourself with the hairs on your skin?
The streets in your aorta?
Or the color green
because it makes your eyes gleam.
We want to know
We want to know
But when you tell us with words
We don’t listen