Don't be a *****, girl
Why so sensitive?
You're not your mother's daughter, that's for **** certain,
Yes definitely your father's, that poor old Sod.
That movie screen is not reality,
Dry your ******* eyes.
Spill the tears for true tragedies,
The ones that relate directly to You,
Me--
Why, which ones?
The ones I say so, of course, the ones I deem most worthy.
The ones the Normals react to.  The tragedies of our own.
Why weep for the sake of others?  They are not Us, nor we Them.
Save the river in your heart
For the things that truly matter.

There are hidden pleasures
Inside the fruit that nobody wants
Peel back the brown banana skin
To taste an undiscovered country
A treat not withered and dry, not tarnished and old
But rather just the perfect sweetness
You didn't know you were looking for.

What else can I cover my mouth with
Other than clear, cherry-flavored lip balm?
It stains, otherwise
Goes where I ask it not to go
Its' gradients are as spread and varying as strands on a feather
I prefer, to be different, to taste better than I look
After all, it's my story that always wins
It was never Red Riding Hood
But the enigma beneath the cloak
I am one of those girls
Hairy and imperfectly coiffed
Veiled in nudes, beiges, and understatements
When men look at me, I wonder what their gazes snag on
There's no snare of life about me except the berry on my fingers and toes
These chipped, bright nails are my calling card
Through the cracks in the polished veneer you can see
**** me filtering through
I hide my hands , tuck the berry away
This is not what I want you to see

What else can I cover my lips with
Other than clear, cherry-flavored lip balm?
It stains, otherwise
Goes where I ask it not to go,
It's' gradients as spread and fine as strands on a feather.
I prefer, to be different, to taste better than I look.
After all, it's mystery that always wins.
It was never Red Riding Hood
But always the darkness beneath the cloak.
I am one of THOSE girls
Hairy and imperfectly coiffed
Wrapped in nudes, beiges, and an ocean of understatements
When men look at me, I wonder what their gazes hinge on
There's no snare of life about me
Except the berry on my fingers and toes.
These chipped, bright nails are my calling card
Through the cracks in the polished veneer you can see
**** me filtering through.
I hide my hands, tuck the berry away
This is not the me I want you to see.

Mine
Is just another average body
An average little nobody
A little girl in the big shoes
Sometimes, I crave another body
A bigger, stronger body
Whether to stand beside me or be mine, I am not so sure
A body, a body, will somebody
Tell me what they want from me?
What he wants from my body
What she could possibly expect
Who am I in this body?
This little girl in the big shoes

I cradle in my palm the power of no.
It is small now, in the moist crook of my hand,
But with it, I have the power to throw out the rules
The ones that don't apply to me, that fill me with the false sense of obligation.
I hide my nursling close to the body because my no can't stand on its own yet
Expectations, like hungry wolves, surround my cupped fingers
Nosing, sniffing, clawing curiously at the gaps my no shines through
In its negativity, No is beautiful.
No leaves room for my sanity to creep, unknowning of how missed it is, like a thief into my life
Sanity, lead by the fledgling No, swells my life like a balloon,
Making room, allowing me to grow.
That's all in the future.
Now, I find the strength in myself to push away the cold muzzle of Other's Needs,
Press NO into the fertile soil of me
And watch it grow.