these hands

i only knew to destroy what you had built;
i wish i could build something with these hands.

you always seemed; so far away & out of reach.
when i could speak, i didnt speak;
not to you, though not at least.
the tongue got my cat, again.

cereal crackles in the morning.
there's something on the lawn &
i would tell you but i know that;
these are only thoughts now.

i wish i could cut the umbilical;
i was your biggest champion &
someone else'll take that place.
i'll find something else anyways.
i'll pathetically search for meaning in your work.
lonesome thursday in hour-long catalogs only to find.
i wish i could build with these hands.

cereal crackles in the morning.
there's someone on the lawn &
i would tell you but i know that;
these are only thoughts now.

cereal crackles in the morning.
there's something on my mind &
i would tell you but i know that;

these are only thoughts now.