By Tuesday they'll let me vote
and stop protecting me.
Push me out into the big wide world
and forget me. Who will love me then?
When all my hair has fallen out
and they let me buy
big bottles of ***** to soothe myself.
Who will love me then?
Still vulnerable, but discounted by them.
****** out on my **** into the wild
with sharp words and a bucketful
of angry tears.