Whose side are you on, language?

Oh language,
would you forgive
my trespasses?

I transgress against you
in everyday speeches.

I rail and fall off of your
rails to a demise that 
looks like decay. 

For I will not commit
my mind to an image
and take a minute
to describe the clock
melting from the bridge
churning coal dust
into my eye.

Concrete may be pervasive,
but I am an asphalt abstraction,
melting rather than cracking
under an indifferent star.