I never adapted to the cold and I think the wind knows
My knuckles are angry with me
But I’m angry at them
I yell at my limbs I yell at my feet
I yell until the kettle out yells me
And even then I am a little jealous of her whistle
What a life !  Made To Scream
I wait for quiet but quiet waits for very few
I am in love with the woman laughing on the train
I am in love with the woman taking too **** long to order
I am in love with whatever the **** is waking up after I
put that **** to rest
She used to make me tea
She also used to blame me for the weather
I became revered and feared
but I was not worthy of worship
too much destruction
God of chaos
God of things you don't tell your parents
God of you-only-prayed-for-rain-when-there’s-a-drought
but ******* for dating a rain cloud
Levys are breaking, my love
I am spilling
I am spouting
I’m a little tea ***
Here is my MOUTH
Here is my HAND
I’m a big bad somethingorother
I tell cautionary tales about a monster that looks a lot like me and lives in a little village that looks just like New York City.
Huh you say
Who is that
Not I said the mouth
Not I said the tongue
Not I said the hand
Not I said the feet
Not I said the shoulders
Not I said the stomach
Not I said the fallopian tubes
Not I said the esophagus
Not I said the inner ear
and by the time you started to recognize me
and by the time you opened the closet to assure me nothing was there
I had eaten away at all the sweaters
and the wind blew right through
because she knew that I never adapted to the cold