Why do I have to go through this?
When will the chattering ever stop?
Am I capable enough to follow my dreams?
I wonder as I turn the doorknob.

Every cell in my body was hated
by every cell in yours
I was only a child
Would you rather suffocate me in drawers?

What do you even benefit from it?
Being happy in front of others
But spit hateful words without people knowing
Oh what a hypocritical pretender

It’s like being
Chained up
Whipped up
Getting all messed up

Or like the cool cyan water
Being ferociously consumed by
the swift fiery orange
Rushing through like the high tide Seine delta

But Plushies,
Blankies and
Aromatherapy
Radiate through every inch of my body,
Experiencing tranquillity

Faintly hearing...
“Are you alright love?”
“I was afraid you would.”
“I’m glad that you’re okay!”

I wish I knew what to say.
My feelings are like clay,
they bend every which way.
I spend nearly every **** day
just trying to be okay.

Maybe this is a cliche,
a girl who fights with her padre,
I keep going astray,
my issues I always downplay.

I wish I were a blue jay;
so I could just fly away.

I walk into the room,
my coat still fresh
with the scent of tobacco.
From the corner of one eye,
I glimpse you
and you glimpse me.
I nod. You nod.

I walk forward into the store.
I could've sworn you were leaving,
but you follow me in
with a friendly hello.
How did you know?
How did you know
that I wanted to see you, too?
Talk to you, too?
Palms sweat, I fix my hair
over and over again.
I like you,
but I can't say it.
I've watched this dance before.

Oh, the games we play.

We play among the vines
of overgrown, ripe wine.
The birds fly before us,
their songs a bittersweet chorus.
Lemony drops of dew
line each fence, window, and hall.
You drop your shawl
and walk towards me, your head held tall.
I will never forget the call
of these sweet, simple Saturdays
that go by in a haze.

Words. Words. What an odd word, the word word is.
It has vowels and deep sounds.
It grumbles and roars.
The sounds percolate in my mouth,
Unfamiliar, yet free.
And it comes to a close,
my wits at an end.
But what end?
Where have they ended?
Where does it stop?
Stop. Stop. Stop.
And begin again.

Feel my body.
How it curves and lifts,
how it can be sweet or bitter.
Put your hands about me
and warm your body against mine.
How strong,
how rich,
how smooth I am!
I can reduce any man to despondency.
Once he gets a sip of me,
he'll never let go.
My scent sends you to tears,
I know.
How moody you grow without me!
You could choose tea,
but where would you be
without little ol' coffee?

Pain ignites,
Your shoulders and biceps set ablaze to to the beat,
To this resurrected tune from the plantations of long ago,
A specter that hangs over the shoulder  when heard.

Up,
Down,
Hold that ****,
And you start to think this Sally chick might just be a real cold *****.

Up,
Down,
Rinse and repeat the pain.

It's just 30 reps,
Why is it so infernally difficult?
Up,
Down,
Hold,
The pressure builds in your muscles and your brain,
Pratcher & the Gardeners heedless of your pain.

The last chorus,
Just a little bit more,
Is it just you or is the music slowing?

The women are weeping,
At the poor departure of poor ol' Luxe.

The song cuts,
You sigh in relief,
As your body crumples on its own accord,
Sick of your efforts and insanity.