She watches smoke curl from the mouth of a plastic gun
Careful now, or the toilet will run
Like the blood trickling down your leg
She said something about a square peg
Or was it a round hole?
Doesn’t matter, my bedroom is dull
And my brain is served fried
Since my favorite actor has died
I have too many magazines and too little space
I love the look of weddings with lace
I am a lamb of summer, my father said
I used to build sandcastles on my bed
Washable school glue stains my dress
As I stand in the pews in my Sunday’s best
Our laughter was loud and our mouths gaped
Her mouth was full with wedding cake
Tumbling out, like white fluffy vomit
I looked and saw he was sitting right on it
One night I woke up and was lying in sweat
Turned and saw a boy I’d never met
I grew up and found myself in the same position
Starring at a shelf with my Barbies lined up,
Wearing those colorful gowns, all Special Edition