THEY ASKED ME if I was one of those girls
(I do not even remember why...)
Wanted: one muse, willing to work
For perfection is O V E R R A T E D.
I am sitting on subway trains and writing down
E V E R Y T H I N G I have
seen, heard, felt.
I HAVE SOMETHING inside of me that is dark,
I do not belong here.
It was a Catholic school, it was patriotic.
It had a strange, unnatural coloring, almost otherworldly
too BIG too UNUSUAL too FRIGHTENING
EVERYTHING HAS its place--
excluding sinus headaches, sleep deprivation,
and love-induced desperation.
I have taken the picture of "THIS IS WHAT SHOULD BE"
and torched it into less-than-ashes.
The magic was gone. I am watching it now.
I DID NOT panic.
"...If I had a blonde ponytail, and a soccer mom..."
(Earth was no place for a girl like her.)
That was my plan all along.
No I'm NOT trying to show up everyone I know
--(no, nothing against those who have, of course)
very CLASSY of them
Everything went B L A C K
I would LIKE to know. I ALREADY know. I just can't talk about it.
I have been cast into the shadow.
Don't even THINK about wearing THAT skirt again.
Whatever YOU'RE feeling, I think YOU should just feel it.
(Perhaps this is true...)
Is that to say the other bed is not MY own?
(I figured that I had chosen this role
and needed to stick with it)
He forgot his shirt in the parlor when he left
He acts all H I G H and M I G H T Y but he is just a figurehead.
I found myself
without a place