comfort words

it all comes down to
what you want
me to say

and i don't know 
what that is

time after time
i ask you
what you wish
i would say

and flowers
and spirals
and daydreams
fall out of your mouth

with scary and abrupt urgency

and you comfort yourself
with the words
that easily come
to mind

(not my mind, unfortunately)

how can you
be in love with
this club footed fool

that stumbles over
vowels and cripples
consonants in a path of
articulate destruction?

how can i show you
that what's in my heart
and what comes from your mouth

are veritably the same animal?

there are ideas trapped
deep within
my inconsistencies

travel as you please
and you'll see

there's no mystery to me
but in your eyes