‘Life is a party’
It’s fun and astir
                                                                                             But where is reality
                                                                                                          All in a blur
‘It’s karaoke night’
It’s time to sing
                                                                                    But it looks like summer
                                                                            Has traded spots with spring
‘7 minutes in heaven’
He moans in bass clef
                                                                                         But my ears are blind
                                                                                        And my eyes are deaf
‘Spin the bottle’
Can’t guess whom you’ll kiss
                                                                                     But memories are faded
                                                                                    And you can’t reminisce
You think life is a party
But it’s not always love at first glance
                                                                                         Because reality is hell
                                                                                And you’re just in a trance

Unlike a pebble thrown into water
Spreading love throughout the world with its endless ripples

Unlike the roots of a tree
Digging deeper and deeper into others’ hearts

My tiny words on slips of paper
Will never influence the world

You’re just like your father.
You’re just like your father.
You’re just your father’s stupid, arrogant daughter.
Why do you keep learning from his mistakes?
Be like me - do all that it takes to be like me.
Because I care. I care about you.
Your father? He doesn’t care about whatever the hell you do.
But I care. So why don’t you?
It’s like you see someone hurt, but you don’t try to save her.
You don’t care. You’re just selfish. A selfish daughter that’s-
That’s just like her father.
You’re just like your father.
You’re like that man with the ***** mouth and ***** clothes
Hiding out with ***** hoes.
I hate it.
But you’re just like your father.
What can I do when I ended up with such a husband
And such a daughter? Nothing. Except remind you-
You’re just like your father.
Stupid daughter, you don’t get it. I wonder why I even bother
With your annoying face. Your face. People always tell me
That you look just like your father.
You look just like your father.
I hate it.
But I care. So why don’t you?
You want to look like a man?
Correction: you want to look like a *******?
I know you don’t. Don’t make that mistake.
So be like me - do all that it takes to be like me.
Don’t tell me that you can’t.
Those words are so like your father.
You’re just like your father.
But why don’t you start picking yourself up?
Stop being just like your father, you hopeless case.
I love it when a little girl grows into her mother’s face.

Of what does it take for you to look at me,
To see me eye-to-eye, and look at me clearly
For just one moment before you turn away with disgust?

You stand me up half-naked with half-assed expectations,
Telling me to open up, to meet you halfway,
But I’ll always be half-faced.
Your furrowed brows
Frame me as the villain,
As if I were the one who caused you all of this misery.
But don’t you know?
When you wrap yourself tightly with your own two arms,
Your claws dig deep into my shoulders
Until the dried blood of a carcass
Crusts around your fingertips,
Until my skin has been lifted from its comfort zone.

Of what does it take for you to look at me,
Before I crash and fall into the pieces of your broken heart
The moment your fist meets glass?

Look, you dumb *****, you did it again!
Going like this, you'll never be thin.
You can't eat a morsel, not one bite.
It's too much grief, you know it's not right.
Look at yourself! Grabbing handfuls of fat!
Nobody wants to be around that.
Break every mirror, skip every meal.
Only then will you be skinny for real.

I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.

for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?

the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.

no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.

so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.

hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.

instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son

I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.