one
tumbled
out of the womb
convulsing
like a breakdancer

five
posed with
lights & cigarettes,
light

eight
lipstick smeared
giddily on the
backhand

twelve
bought birth control
shared among friends
pills split with a jacknife

sixteen
fascinated by
violet waves
& crystal castles

twenty-one
cancer of the soul
flask in her ribs
she moves
among suitors
like whispers of fame

twenty-two
nosering replaced
polished for the wake
croptop in the casket

It's not fun
you better run
she's got sunshine in a bag
all wrapped in tangled rags
for her own good.

She's tried to hide,
how all she's done is lied
to be in her prize
but it was the wrong size
only for her own good.

she knows you just want the facts
she knows you want to keep intact
she said "but that's not who I am,
I just told you what I knew, then I ran,
just for my own good."

It made everyone feel special,
then in the end, all could be read by facials
so then truth hit her in the back of the head
she sank so low, and stayed in her bed
all for her own good.

When she thought it was over, it went back to the same,
she learnt nothing, she only ever felt shame
for everyday it seemed to rain
and everyday was twice as much pain
all because she was worried for her own good.