Everyone will be hiding something
Concealing so much reality
Underneath boredom and structure
And such words… Such glorious words.
That make no sense until you repeat them
Your own sense hides like a coward
Silent and waiting.
It is seeking paraphrases from other conversations
And finishing sentences for you.

‘You’re a perfectly nice person’
But only underneath asymmetrical *******
And thinning hair
And uni-brows that you just won’t see.

‘You’re really intelligent’
But only if you could laugh a little while longer
And kiss a little bit nicer.
And if you sold out everyone who shares your blood,
Just to please me.

‘You’re an amazing friend’
Because you can’t **** someone
Who is just half as smart as you.
And you can't kiss someone,
whose lips are raw and ******.

When did I become a mangled mess of these words?
If someone had taught me
If I had taught myself well
To get caffeine fixes on lonely tables
And spill myself in hot blooded fervour
So much so
That everyone will take two steps back
Afraid that the frail woman licking cream off her pancakes
Crying over sugar cubes
Will ask for their help.
Or worse… their handkerchief.
But I only taught myself to speak in adulterated words
Stewed in anger and sweat
Frozen so that I don’t make anyone anxious
Because the last thing I want
Is to make everyone else uncomfortable.
So I only talk about why I don’t want to wake up in the morning,
And how, every morning
Getting my feet on the ground
Is the hardest thing
I’ve ever had to do.
But I never finish that sentence.