They say children put childish things away. What they mean is Deconstruct the tower of your ideals and put your blocks away,
swim through the Milky Way of your dreams and put the flippers up.
As you come across your front lawn scattered with bikes as the kids scream kicking a ball he replies make sure both locks are locked, as they click you hear a slight slip in your heart.
Click click.
When his anxiety kicks in he will ask again, are both locks locked? You feel the toy box in your chest trying to burst at the seem but you only reply “Yea, they’re locked”
When he says children put their childish things away he means, the things you see don’t align with me. I’m too afraid of the freedom they bring when they take you away from me. So you sit on the granite floor of your life, floors clean, his smiles beams, and it’s as depressing as it seems.

I forcefeed my body a poison in the name of peace
When it coughs and begs please don’t  
I hold my hands over its crying mouth and say just one more
The sweet aroma only I can smell when it’s been so long
My lungs cry at this smell
The putrid tears of tar seep into my stomach
It moans a low growl and gurgles it’s insults at me these slurs
              slide
                      down
                               these tubes of mine whispering
over one another as if those  tar teardrops had turned into small souls clawing at me until their grave
My soul lying at the bottom becoming darker and darker

Feminine has become a intimate word to me
Something to hide in the ***** drawer locked in the floorboards
Too intimate and innocent  to show to the the worlds
The first chance they get they drop your drawers and say well why would you go and do that? And demand you do; you try to say you won’t.

Why so sensitive?

They want those white ******* so much they crave them
search
       for
            them
                      in the dark
                                      
But mock them in the  daytime
to be sensitive was to be gullible
So why Walt’s in those white petals when the world wears ***** boots
How do you shed those pants for linen loons
The world has shown how it degrades the “dumb blonde” and her worth
To be feminine to be intimate to be innocent to be sensitive to be gullible to be worthless

Social media is modern day reality tv where we all try to do our comedy sketches when prompted
What was I saying again?
Director line
And here’s the punchline it’s the same one everytime
So put on your best fit
And your best smiles
Because this is Aya and welcome back to my Facebook live

I wanna crawl into my sadness like my favorite blanket
I keep looking for the soft the familiarity
The need to stay in bed too late and for tears to well in my eyes
Dripping
Where did that hoody go? The one that kept me up late, my favorite one to run in
Run from people
Run from myself
Run from it all
I was a triathlon champion
Sleep all day, run all night, and cry till the stars wept with me
It sounds all so grandiose when you say it like that...
but I was really just a sad girl who couldn’t bare to deal with the reality around her