[ I wanted to draw you a picture ]

I wanted to draw you a picture
but how the fuck do you make the rain look real?
I'm being honest but it's the same as words:
Stuttered. Incoherent. Slurred.
It's not the only place to feel vulnerable.
It's in a camera lens; an unopened message.

You have a lot to say.
You have a lot of nerve in black and white.
In twelve-point type.
All those long words giving me the
ink to hide behind and read between,
more white space than I'll ever need.
Every motion-sick word you speak
is another unstable line to complicate
and we're dogwhistling these droning needs,
hoping someone notices.
Hoping that you're noticing.

But aren't you so goddamn tired of me this week?
Because I am, I am, I am.

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