You wear those tight skinny jeans

like its your skin, stiff

blue black denim keeping your

legs thin and that stiff

black-gray jacket buttoned up

to god-knows-where-

you need it; you heart

won't stay in your chest no

more and that stiff black gray

jacket

muffles the frantic moan

of your pulse – all that

d-e-m-i-m holds in

your-blood-skin-bones

from just melting away

and all that d-e-n-i-m

won't let you go, won't

let you out, won't let

them in

they can't see how loose

your skin hangs, pulling away

from your veins but they can

see your-eyes-your-face-your-hands

because they never made no denim masks

and all that denim will never

hide no soul