I sat down by the piano at the back
He passed me by
The look in his eye said he would be sitting beside me
I prayed he would change his mind
I bent down to get a book from my backpack
Not wanting to find out his decision
He sat down right in front of me
His Stratford shirt mocked me with it's writing on the back,
"What you wish may not be what you want"
Seriously?
Stretching inches away from me
Uncomfortably close
A complete freak
No one else would want to be closer
I haven't been this close in a long time
And it occurred to me,
despite the sneering T-shirt
that he might actually like me
that maybe that smile I flashed him in the hallway last week
actually didn't look like someone trying to throw up
that he's taming me
like the little prince tamed the fox
moving closer and closer every day
that something might happen
and it terrified me
I couldn't handle it
I haven't found out who I am
I'm not ready

Perverts
Perverts
Every single one of them
Their bright, lustful eyes
That needy, clingy smile
Desire reeks from every part of their body
Without them I cannot work
Without them I cannot sing for my supper
And yet I want to punch them all in the face
I want to disown them

I can't describe that awful feeling
That they don't want you for your voice, your musicality
They want you for that unnamed act
And although they've never tried
You are deathly afraid of giving them the opportunity
The polite consent

I wish I had the work ethic, the talent
To leave and find great work
Beautiful timbres and songs
New music all the time
Competence and prestige

I must endure their constant attempts to get closer
Even if just by a few steps
It makes my blood boil
My heart pound with utter rage
It's more than I can stand

And they flatter and flatter
Until their throats go dry
Until they can no longer hold their giant grin
I wish something would physically stop them

They know my insecurity
And they manipulate it
They invest
And they play the cruel game of time
Wait for their golden opportunity

When the time has come
I flee like a gazelle on the savannah
I'm tired of running
I'm tired of holding back the scream of rage
The shriek of frustration

Someday they won't be able to push me around

I spend all my time thinking about him until I see him face to face
and suddenly he is absolutely repulsive
I can't look at him anymore
I find all his bad qualities
His bad habits when performing
Mistakes
And I wonder why I loved him

But my feelings don't change a whit
because when he leaves I can't bear to be separated from him
Not see him for another day, another week
And I feel a dagger in my heart
A kick when I'm sprawled out on the floor, bleeding
As he walks down the stairs with her
They hold hands in their minds
for even though they do not touch I can feel their bodies connect
Never think he is staring at you
Across the room
Unless it is obvious

I feel surrounded by countless fears
The world for me has nothing but hate
It's getting harder and harder to hold back the tears
For I have an infamous tendency to be late

And that's just how they would phrase it too
So holier-than-thou with their watches
In this world swiftly turned to zoo
Time is king and we are just the notches

My teacher felt the urge to inform me today
That I am late in every way
Late in my work, late in my location
Late in choosing my perfect vocation

And even if you try your hardest
Treat your task as a craft
If you were there the latest
Everyone will view you as daft

Well from now on I will try hard to be on time
I'll cut the corners and muddle through the grime
This problem brings me so much shame
And my peers always choose my head to blame

But never assume that I don't care
Do not believe I enjoy this flaw
For like all the great singers and witty writers rare
My punctuality will someday leave the world in awe

I can cry whenever I want
It is an actor's dream
I can cry whenever I want
It's just coursing through my veins
That hurt, ungratefulness
Inner discord
It's calling to me
Let it out!
But I hold it in so well
I am a terrible actor
I have an unexpressive face
Or maybe just a lack of courage in expressing emotions
Tears are physical
Aren't they?
Or are they emotional?
I am a terrible actor
Because I'm so good at catching and keeping
What should be out in the open
I can cry whenever I want

"****!"

She gasps, looking out at the people waiting for buses
She talks to herself quickly but loudly, turning away
As if she were reciting her lines for a play
A blonde woman
So neatly yet modestly put together

How could one bus stop be so full of crazies?
The old woman and her toddler granddaughter
With bright yellow hair
Get up from their bench and move away in fear
While I draw closer

She mumbles so fiercely and so quietly
That I cannot make out a word
She is so tightly wound
Like a broken watch
At a mad tea party

Suddenly she disappeared
And my bus came

What did life do to her?

As I ride down King
I see her again
Beaming as she walks by the skating rink
In front of town hall
Reciting her own world for herself

Why does God hate her?