Listen to the whispers of the A/C unit
Humming out a D,
Or a headache
Just solid enough to hear from across the room.
But I don't listen to you.
Or any of your costly fabricated words
Telling me I've got something wrong
Behind the bridge of my nose,
bent and too deep.

I'm a perfect human being.
My heart's in the center of my chest.
I breathe in bad circumstances and exhale gold,
I make the patterns in the wind.
My hands reach inside a sad glob
Of green and brown
mud and roots
Shoveling through with fingertips
I pull minerals from my insides
And show them off.

But there's a hole in the wall there,
Somewhere
Brain-sized with rosy cheeks
Screaming at me to think my way through
The hole isn't round, and neither am I.
My palms aren't symmetrical,
My feet, no direction
And sometimes I catch myself in lies.

Often, I catch myself in lies.