Don’ t tell me how to feel
because neither one of us are in charge
of my heart
or it’s rationale.
There’s no bigger dictator
than the one that’s inside of me.
When it pulls the strings,
and calls the shots,
my body pulls forward
with this boulder of emotion
and my shoulders start caving
as I start to drag my feet.
When the whistle blows
I roll my eyes,
at this foolish ruler…
A small organ that dreams big.
Who does it think it is?
When will it learn?
And when will it stop making me
do it’s dirty work?