My slippery soul
shed the skin
of my former lover.
and TV shows
weren't enough for me.
I held out my fingertips
praying that your spread teeth wouldn't saver me harshly
like people love to do.
You ignored my embrace
with the plastic dinning room table.
I painted my mother's face
on the doorknob
of the flower's outside
so that she would be near me always.
I offered myself the sunset
and a world of freedom
But I'm afraid;
how do I leave what I've always known
how do I cut the skin of society away from myself long enough to find the true person within.
Is it in the open range lands?
The penthouse apartment?
Is their dirt on my hands?
Or fancy Italian gloves costumed made?
Are my beautiful children playing in the yard outside of my window?
Or is my work, my fancied infant?
Tell me how I escape this fear
this malevolent pain of the future
do I go my way with my chosen companion?
Or by myself?