I could tell you my problems
I could sing you a song
To tell the tales of woe
all night long

I could cut out my chest
and give you my heart
I could wipe away the blood
so you could tell them apart

I could show you the scars
of my own words
or my flaws
I could show you my dead birds

I could disgorge all my thoughts
I could draw you a table
and explain to you my sky
I could do all these things, but you'd never be able

To see
**Why