it’s the taxidermy of you and me

I don’t want to make sense,
because I lack the intent
of knitting stray English

   [and]

I am not sorry that
my honesty is burlap.

I can’t help
as it rubs against
your foam heart.
 You should know better
 than to tell people
 how strong you are;
you’re a brick wall,
but I know you’re rusting
like a chain link fence.

I want to break the face
you hide behind.
Because it’s photofinished
 [and I’m not]
like the Mona Lisa,

     and you’re a coward.

Tags: bitches, hate, poems, poet, poetry