Mama are you coming home tonight?
If you’re not, will you be mad if I
Tuck myself into your bed
Try on your pajama shirt,
And lie awake until you come back
To play with each curl on my head,
And let your fingers dance
Like little ballerinas across my back

This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem

I feel really empty;
Like my stomach is a bottomless pit-
Needing fulfillment of some sort
That cannot be found in this world

I want to swallow pills
Or drive into traffic
And get into bed with someone dangerous.
Maybe drown in a dark beautiful ocean
Find something that makes me feel

I want the pain to make me want to live
I want it to send a signal to my brain
To fight instead of struggle
To try harder than it already is

Something isnt working
And I am impatient.
I dont like sitting around waiting for maintenance and repair.
I want it to be black and white
Life or death
Make up your mind, brain.
I can’t handle teetering on the tightrope any longer.
No more back and fourth
No more waves of misery followed by happiness
I just want it to be this or that.
I want to want to be alive and be alive
Or be dead and be done

I'm counting on myself, to get out of this house,
this hell you call a home? What a ******* joke.
You're never even here, and when you are,
your passed out on the kitchen floor.

I'm not the type of girl, who wants to settle down,
I'll leave your heart behind in another town.
I'm not the type of bird, who flies home to a nest,
every night until her timely death.

If I were a bird, I'd fly far away,
I'd never let back I'd never let myself stay
in one place for long, because it gets boring,
and I'd rather be soaring high.

Like a swift in the sky, a thief in the night.

Somewhere between twelve and fifteen years ago,
I learned to keep my mouth closed.
Mama laughed at the dinner table, Daddy rolled his eyes.
Always had to tell her, "That's not lady-like."
So I learned to whisper, if I needed salt or pepper.
And I always swore, Daddy's eyes could start a war.

I don't want to go home to a place like this.
I don't want to go home to a place I'm walking on glass.

Sometime long ago, my Mama's fire would barely glow.
I asked her, "Mama, Mama, where did it go?"
She told me, "Darling" and looked in my eyes, said, "Sparks are hot but they quickly die. And when Daddy doesn't feed this flame, the love will die just the same."

That's just table talk that's just the way things go.
We sit in silence as we watch the clock tick on and on and on.

Stay a while and be my muse,
the only time you tell the truth
is in a room of mirrors,
filled with tiny dancing figures.

I can see it in your eyes,
you aren't in this room.
Your leaps lift you from the lies,
and your twirling in full bloom.

But I've heard stories of you,
and I can't help wonder if they're true.
Do you hear the whispers follow you?
Or do you drown them out with those dancing shoes?

But I don't care if what they say is valid,
you put me in a trance as you dance another ballad.