dreadfully and drearily so she picked around her nose where her ring used to be
full of dead and destruction she ripped out pages of John 3.16, where her crown chakra used to feel free
wistfully wishing for her black jeans with a string instead of a zipper; she now wears a gown
wondering why, she contemplates in her midnight blue constellation journal: to down-
right mortify me,
to make a mockery, to….to, to…. to…. find me in case I pull the fire alarm and try to escape
she puts together puzzles with her mother’s name in cursive in the bottom right corner and puts them together with tape
begrudgingly so she ties up the used new balance sneakers she borrows and moans
she wants to move her body, for her form has been stagnant, oh how she wishes to roam
jogging, running, sprinting from the wolves to the butterflies and bunnies
painting a stain glassed window as a holy shrine to The Queen of The Goths, she’s so spunky
wondering where her soul’s mate could be in a blizzard this thick
but she knows she’s been a real witch, flying into her alter ego’s psyche on a broomstick
if she can infiltrate her reflection in the mirror she’ll catapult into outer space
although, around her neck, she’d much rather wrap a shoelace
In five days time, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, not only does the doggy door open,
so does the front door, who had the key? Will the door be closing?
Jogging, running, sprinting from the eyes of the doctor to the arms of the unbroken
My feet are swollen
My hands need lotion
My thoughts are golden
I am coping
He is coping
We are coping
They are unbroken
Over a basket of fish and chips, I realize I was chosen
Is that a ****** up notion?
I just don’t want to feel hopeless
Is this excess of energy a bad omen?
Back in the free world now, I’m so scared of my spirit being stolen
But my energy is as vast as the ocean and potent
I win, I win, I win !
But the imperialists are closing