i tried to be poetry, ethereal, unreal
apparently my metaphors can't show you how i feel
my illusions fell flat, my imagery a bore
i'm neither the lock nor the key to your door
you're not a leaf, a tide or sun in my eyes
i'm literal now, not some moral that dies
or the bones or the scars or the dust on the shelf
you're you. and i'm me. now go fuck yourself.