a little romance with life

When I was younger, I used to ask my mother how is it that we feel alone even when there are so many people in this world. I I walk like fire till my feet turn to ash It does not matter if the world beneath me burns I do not care if the steps spill my blood, My spit turning to acid, words melt my insides I can no longer swallow the shit that is happening My heartbeats up in flames, the soul boiling Under the heat of my own being I live like fire till my days turn to ash. II Cry, if the world hurts you, cry like a fucking Waterfall, and cry till those around can see you Drowning in your own sorrow; please don’t Pretend to be strong for anyone, aren’t we all Starting to look like iron men and women who Have forgotten what their hearts sounded like Aren’t we wounded souls wandering underneath Distracted bodies teaching our children Never to cry? III Oh god, please be kind to one another You are not ice, you are not a walking blade, ...

Oh dear, what a shame it is to not have the heads turn As I enter the bus in awe of my flawless beauty The shining face, the kohl smeared eyes, the ripped out Hairless flesh of my legs, and smooth touch of my hands No woman will wish her daughter to be like me For all I know, I’d be one of those young people That make her look so damn sexy at forty eight; No man will desire the fool who does not hide her legs Sprouting with hair as wild as her heart, my head with As less hair as the damn worthy of all the passers-by Who, I am told, will decide the course of my life, Oh dear mommy, I am a walking tragedy. But what will you do when I go waltzing down the Streets of Vienna in hot pants and spaghetti tops And when I would have dyed my hair red, and adopted Baby kittens displaying their loving scratches like Constellations tattooed on my skin and not wear black to Hide my tummy and pick any dress out of my wardrobe without Spending a full 30 minutes w...