my eye lids are heavier

than canvas shopping bags

after a particular gratitious shop

(fret not, i bought your biscuits)

and my heart is full of jangly

indie twee pop with a stomping bassline

that makes me want to dance with

tears in my eyes at times,

happy ones,

the kind that makes old(er) people in

old or stereotypical things proclaim

'turn off that infernal racket'

'what is that god awful noise'

etcetera but less circuituously

look at me world, i'm happy

look at this ******* smile

look at it

look at my yellowed teeth and tell me that i'm not a woman

look at my hair and tell me that i wasn't born with it

look at my face and pretend you've never seen anything so confusing

wait the last one didn't work did it

let me try again



give me the key to the city and i'll give you the key to my heart

okay the last one was a lie but

you get or can hopefully at least begin to grasp the point,

I can recommend some secondary reading if you're interested in reading around the topic.

but yes, where was i?

ah yes,

i'm on the crest of a sugar high

and i think i can see my house from here

i can see the ruins and the new developments going up

and from up here, as always,

everything is pretty ******* beautiful

there's so little air

no wait

another lie, sorry,

there's empty space with nothing in it

not even gas particles

only me and my feelings and

so little room to move in this tiny car

but i'm safe and i'm well

and i'm strapped in tight

and i can see my house from here.



honestly, it's that one right there.

i can see myself at the window,

eating a bagel with margarine

and wondering how the hell

I ever got so high off the ground.