You will always be there for me,
and I love you for that.
I know I can always come back to you.
I never want to leave you,
but I have to.
You beg and plead that I stay,
but it does not change anything.
I have a life to live and I cannot live it while I'm with you.
But I think you should know,
that I think about you when you are not there.
You occupy my daydreams.
You interfere with my thoughts.
You invade my mind.
You are an addiction,
and I crave you.
I think I need help.
It's not healthy to want to be with you all day long.
I'm with you every chance I get.
This is damaging my health.
I need fresh air, sunshine.
But I cannot help it.
I love you more than I love anything else.
I love you, bed.

It stares,
It glares,
It hovers in the air,
It lies,
It cries,
It makes happiness die,
It's the evil eye.

Power
Oppress, dictate
Forcing, ruling, wounding
It's an addiction we have
Control.

Life for Sale, it's as good as new!
Hasn't seen many years, only a few!
Last owner couldn't handle it,
She had a huge fit.
She yelled and cried and screamed,
A new life is what she dreamed.
So she gave up and put hers up for sale,
hoping her plan wouldn't fail.

Life for sale! Only seventeen dollars!
What deal! It's practically a steal!
I must warn potential buyers though, that there's some baggage that will be bestowed,
It isn't much, it's a small amount,
But beware, it will make you cry, shout and pout!
It's depressing, distressing, and it's worth confessing
That this life isn't perfect but it is a blessing.
Two parents, and a roof over it's head,
All that's missing is just a meal and a bed.

Life for sale! Seventeen dollars and ladies and gentlemen, this price isn't going any higher...wait,
What's that?
We have a buyer!

the type of girl
who will say "i love you"
first

I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
There's a lot more to me than the girl in Dr. Seuss pajama bottoms, shrinking beneath the expectations you have set for me
I wish I knew what your expectations are
But it's hard to reach for a bar you can't see
It's hard to mold myself into something that you will accept and place on the mantle of a fireplace so that when strangers come over you can point to me and say that you are proud
I'm not sure if you want candlesticks or a picture frame or a book full of wonderful accomplishments
I could be all of those things, if you wanted
I'm not the girl you think I am
Not really, anyway
I'm stronger than my trembling bottom lip and the tears that break through the walls of my heart sometimes
I wish you weren't so logical and demanding of evidence you can hold in your hands
Because in my mind there's a gold mine of things I am trying to become
And none of them can be deposited in an ATM or withdrawn from a checking account
I'm sorry that I'm not real enough for you
And I'm sorry that you won't step into my mind for a second
So I can show you
The girl behind the numbers

Gall, dad
If I had my way with money
I would make something out of it
A house of credit cards
Write my poems on all that paper with no true value
I mean
You trade your thoughts for George Washingtons and Abraham Lincolns
Well
I keep mine
To help make more
People
Like the ones on our currency, but currently
I don't think you understand where I'm coming from
And as I sit here
Tapping away with my thumbs on an electronic device that you thought made up for my childhood
I wonder
What did you trade for me?