So How Was Your Day?

Making my way across the board of educational strife
(Of course the one I created) Of course, it wasn’t much
I taught you all to make whey
Of curds and frauds
Feeling like a plush doll with dirt on my face
Hear the eternal ‘clank’ echo through an empty post office
Slam the P.O box number back on the mailbox
‘We don’t work on Sunday’s’
I run like my sister still plays with dolls
Shake them till their legs fail and their thrown by their sides
There are no strings attached to these wrists
I write with real anxious abandonment
Scratches across a thin lined paper
Don’t try to translate the signature
It’s the only place the spell check can’t find me
And I don’t sign my checks in pencil
I’m still waiting for a call from the pound
Check if they’ve found my dog of a pen

Yes, this is the same girl that writes with this hand
And this same lead the words ‘scribed on the same pages
Of how much I love with a heart you still have
Same words I’ve used, but I tried so hard to just write
About my day
Slap me, I’m writing too much
Fuck it, but I love you