love is a used and empty, dirty word
that no heart, truly fallen, ever heard
who explains their love in other's terms?
that kind of poetry is food for the worms
we buried that kind of depiction with the bard
i could stand here and show you where my chest is scarred
but would that lead you to understanding?
what exactly is it that you are demanding
when you ask of me to tell you what i felt?
should i use some cliched phrase like how i'd melt?
i would rather leap into a fire and fahrenheit 451
every girl rewrites my universe like the sun
in copernicus' universe where i was the earth
and i had been fixed and egocentric from birth
the moment when i knew was an atom smashing
it was hiroshima birthing today in a blinding flashing
this is why i can write love songs to enola gay
because she is the mother of us all, what can i say
that is ever truly going to capture something like that?
describing your lover, doesn't every single sonnet fall flat?
even shakespeare never encompasses the reality of beauty
if i claim to have it all in a poem then please shoot me
could god even capture the world, which was once a word,
in a poem that meant the heart and mind was stirred?

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