Couldn't be more clearer, Video's the new mirror. My heart's broken glass, stitched sideways & broken. Makes the sound of someone creakin' 'Cuz they was speakin' and hadn't yet Spoken for the day... ...treacherous in that type of way. I sing the blues to my palms, No one hears my songs. Or feels the chasm that's inside of me. Or recognizes these Psalms. With a struggling butterfly yearning to be free. Gaslighted in a bell jar. Hobbled me & said I'd go far. Said wish on stars. Bang the erasers for the teacher. Cry in a bathroom stall or with Reckless abandon at 80mph After all you're just a pink flower. How many petals have you gotten plucked? And how many times have you been fucked_ _over? When it's done, is it undone? Screaming boxing matches in this deadly living room full of mold spores and silent snores, how neatly can I fold the
Where conspiracy theories meet feminist theories. (And sometimes there's poems).