twist up my words in a tangle
and tell me im trying too hard
as if it isnt you who curdles
the words which flow from my wrists
they are not blood they are liberation
you are not saving but stifling
you love the machine you live for it
this thing which churns us
from dreamers to dreamless
from makers to breakers
laugh at my willful disorder
and call it clumsy and stubborn
dont you see how you cripple
it is not the fault of the ones with the light
its yours as you avert your gaze
and tell me to give it to you softer
i will not be your messenger yet
youve shirked my light too many times
look how my words come out ugly
you will not let me speak
you will not let me sing
now you muddy my writing
the thing i hold nearest my heart
and you ask me why i dont tell you things
do not bludgeon your ears
and call it failed understanding
we have tried
we have tried
we have tried
we have tried