My edges have no border
I seep & blotch the air
My thoughts a chaotic disorder
Laughing in silent despair

Who am I?

I’m the colorful mix
Of the pills I take at night
Grappling at the latest “fix”
But I never get the dosage right
So broken I shall stay
To listen but not to obey

I’m the perfect daughter
I know I ought to be
Smiling sequined next to my father
A beautiful sight to see
Painted fingertips, quiet lips
But I’m slipping from sexist grips

I’m the crash of atoms & molecules
The patterned DNA that labels our culture
Theorems, functions, evolutionary tools
Poe knew: Science is a “vulture
Whose wings are dull realities”
Fact blinds what my mind sees

Forgive me I’m singing
Of what I am & cannot be
& My ears are still ringing
With who society has asked me to be