
Ode to A Hair Clump Down the Drain
I was never the fruit you wanted
to bear. I was never the fruit that
you wanted to pick.
Now the thought of you makes me angry. …
I was never the fruit you wanted
to bear. I was never the fruit that
you wanted to pick.
Now the thought of you makes me angry. …
Nothing ever remains unknown. We know this.
Sooner or later, the winds will change with us,
and us with it. …
People should not have been created;
so perfectionistic,
sounding so pinched,
so distant from emotion. …
There’s not much of that,
now, out here,
where every form of solitude is flawed,
Faithless. …
There is a pulse—
And what’s behind
is no longer tangible. …
“You can be what you desire,”
Doubt utters
From your lips
But its wicked mouth is that
Of a different language …
When you face forgetful grief
You should teach it not to
Rain on you,
And soak you in sorrow …