María says I am such a special one
so original so individual
so sparkly so peculiar
she reads me and it's been two days
is she an angel? my ****** brain says
Giving me money instead of manna
And doing so with a smile

María speaks a lot
says I am an assertive gal
When she puts the finger in my wounds
it gets hard to talk
When she says there must be a root to all this
I think, can she really see?

María sees all but she doesn't see at all
she doesn't know the foremath
she doesn't know the full extent
she hasn't seen the wounds in my arm
she hasn't seen the mist or my fall
who really cares?

You don't know how hard it has been