tea biscuit madness
running around my yard while sitting in bed
pushing on my teeth hard with my fingertips until they hurt
i hate to say the word "ache"
but my body is a voodoo doll left uncontrolled for too long,
and my seams are unraveling.
my chest is a glass
too small for the rose it contains
and although it's wilting
there's still a crack here and there

and tell me why I can't say "i love you"
without a hot, sick feeling rising through me every time?

tell me why i'm still here
tell me why i still think i'm needed