why am i writing you words with no meaning,
knotted up in a pretty little bag with no meaning,
tied with a bow with no meaning,
sealed with a kiss with no meaning,
why do you have no meaning?
i don't know,
i don't know.

the trees have pulses, it's why
their leaves have veins-
i may have gotten a d in natural science,
but i got a b-plus in biology
and i'm not stupid enough
to think that a being with veins doesn't have a heartbeat.
trees have just so many arms outstretched
for love,
a touch,
a
please-tell-me-you-care,
tell-me-you're-here-to-love-
me,-you're-here-to-save-me:
and nobody ever
hugs the elm tree with
a thousand arms and i give it,
the dying one on the corner of my street,
a hug though i hate hugs
and i only let go
when i feel its heart
beat-beat-beating.

the medulla oblongata
regulates the heartbeat,
isn't that funny? i think it's funny that
the brain talks to
the heart at all- i feel love,
and you feel nothing,
you use your nerves and fucking frontal cortex
to use logic and reason
and my amygdala is
ticking away like a clock on cocaine,
why the fuck does
the medulla oblongata love the heart?

i asked you, and

you didn't know,
you didn't know.