More Ryhme des mots

speakeasy

i've never been able to speak easy
i would rather die alone than die along with meaningless dialogue
but i don't want you to speak easy
i want you to silence easy
i can't swallow violence easy and sometimes your voice is like toes tapping sandpaper and it tastes like sand and it cuts like paper
tiny
and meaningless
and my heart doesn't waste any blood on it
so there isn't anything to seal the incisions in 
we don't silence easy we silence busy
like both of us went to let it wash over us but the tide was too strong that day and tiny rocks pelt my face
and you hold me above your head so i'm not swept away
but the action takes your feet out from under you
to this day
i've never asked you any questions that mean something
was i just not around back when you existed?
when you wrote poetry like i do and couldn't draw like i can't draw the same way i can't draw
i wear your clothes to the secret places i walk
and you give me so much to talk
about
you told me you thought you were gay when you were younger
you told me with your beer bottle goggles that you don't like to talk to your brother,
and with your clenched phone hand that your sister isn't ever breathing and seeing at the same time
her eyelids are lips lined red
and her mouth is a memory that she slathers with numbing cream
dad did you marry a bottle of numbing cream
is that why you squeezed every last bit of her out
if your hands are lips
why do you keep ruining her plans with your fist
you've never been able to draw her
(i know that if you could, you would have a long time ago.)
there was no first time i heard you
i've always been hearing you
if your hands are your lips
than why didn't you ever speak her into a painting
and if your lips are hands, why did they always burn so badly on my back when you pat me goodbye in the morning
you don't pat me hello
do you burn because there's no off switch