I speak
But the words are diced apart
By the cut of your tongue
They flutter down

I stare at them
Amazed
That my words
mean so little to you

Yet I bite my tongue
and hear you out
I examine each ribbon of thought
that tumbles out of your mouth
I listen so hard
But my words mean nothing

No one is listening

You tell me to tell you
But you're not listening
You're responding
After deciding
That my thoughts
need some kind of solution
I never needed an answer

No one is listening

I sit in the back seat
The window is open
I left the conversation
3 blocks ago