I am wearing out my patience 
     Like a weathered Madras shirt 
 
It fades slowly out of style, 
     Shrinking tightly over my emotions, 
 
Which are beginning to peek through 
     As pale, insulting flesh.  
 
 
My eyes have spotted scars 
     On nibbled ear lobes, and 
 
My nose has smelled  
     The sweat of emotional armpits, and 
My fingers have touched 
     Glossy pages of the life you live. 
 
 
My heart grunts madly 
     Gobbling up smiles from passing strangers.