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