Be a billion bulldozers
breaking down my heart.
A heart is made of human concrete,
it cracks (doesn't tear) and crumbles into sand.
In the palm of your hand you hold a heap of it
and the granules are dispersing through the air.
You should care, you don't
you're wet concrete still,
haven't found out how to solidify,
how to be something real.
But something real isn't just something you can feel.
Its something you'll never be
because you don't get it at all.