Some things fall
Down into little pieces
Scattering around and off
The table
And its almost as if a big puff of smoke
Drifted in just to say
Little mama this wasn't for you
At this time.

And I'm not the kinda woman
You can just put aside
And pick back up with
After the holidays
Have subsided.

I'm a busy bee, an Entrepreneur
A socialite aflame
Prepared for battle like a mighty rose
And I know the meaning of my own worth.

Its too bad baby
I was thinking lately
I was feeling anxiety over the quiet
And you say its not about me
I believe you.

But I'm a human
A vessel of creation
And your confidence and lack of definitive plans
Is not enough
For me to say
Yes lets pick this back up

Like me, this
Is some kind of chore
To be had
When even the rain isn't
Falling.