Not quiet, Not the norm
Don’t know the type I’m to conform
I’d drink the poison
To keep my voice in
Youd love that oh you would
Just nod and please be good

But if I had no speech
My baby lizard of mine
How’d he ever reach
The knowledge of time

He’s never seen my aunts
Shoo me like a dog
Just keeps eating his plants
As I fill my lungs with fog
Try to turn off my rants
But Instead I fill my skull with smog

“More blueberries” he demands
Never noticing the scars on my hands
I just explain fruits, although I understand
I can’t answer directly, sorry you can.

He doesn’t hold that grudge
Doesn’t press my soul
Just licks a small smudge
And walks away from his bowl

While he basks in the bulb
I traverse to the cold
I bring him some berries
The ones I was told

I can only pray to grow hazy
I can only listen
As a Red fox vocalizes my pain
I cannot be sure if the morning dew will glisten