Beyoncé
Anger (Lemonade Poem, Part 3)
[Poem]
If this what you truly want, I can wear her skin...over mine.
Her hair, over mine.
Her hands as gloves.
Her teeth as confetti.
Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane.
We can pose for a photograph. All three of us, immortalized. You and your perfect girl.
I don't know when love became elusive. What I know is no one I know has it.
My father's arms around my mother's neck. Fruit too ripe to eat.
I think of lovers as trees... growing to and from one another.
Searching for the same light.
Why can't you see me? Why can't you see me? (Why can't you) Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.