Somedays words fail me
Like in the three and a half languages I speak
And 50,000 words I know,
I couldn’t find the right one to describe my soul.

Somedays words fail me
And I sit like a hopeless blind mute
Thinking my word is out there
In the other 996.5 languages
But I don’t know where to find it

Somedays my eyes are red
Like this color I cannot find on the Pantone chart to show you
I suppose it is a blend of #37 blood-orange, #126 crimson and #5 gray
Aged and rubbed out for 27 years

Somedays words really fail me
And I suppose I can only sketch out a tear of mine
To show you how smooth the bottom has round down
How heavily it weighs on my cheek, held up only by the coarseness of my face
Look how sharp the point stays after all these years
And how it glitters at you, like how a diamond that is forever, glitters.