I stack the books
upside down
with the smallest on the bottom
such balance
my own eighth wonder of the world
my world
and even when the bird flies away
I'll keep drawing it
your nostrils flare
but no scream escapes
I can see it trying, though
there are lots of girls prettier than me
but I don't really mind
or
I wouldn't
if only you would stand by my side
and not go chasing other
things
prettier than me things
once
I tried to count all the hairs on my head while I waited for you
I didn't get very far
but I kept waiting even after I gave up
where even are we
I know the planet's turning
but I can't feel it
what really matters
certainly not me
why am I even here
I can't even write one poem for you
that doesn't just sound like ramblings
about books and birds and silent screams
I guess you are just as pointless as me