01 December 2012

December 1

All these little suicides
they hardly make a mark.
I can take these fun-house rides --
I'm a natural in the dark.

- The Golden Palominos

Forgot to wear my chains and name tag
today and accept my role as monster.
Forgot to leave your light on,
shut mine off, and accept my role as fuck-up.
If I suddenly did everything right,
found a way to feed myself before I
paid every dollar, comforted every person,
it would do nothing. There would still be me
and the yellow wallpaper,
the delusions of womanhood, of youth,
of danger. There would still be pieces of me
that would anger you
that wouldn't fit together
quite right. Because it's my insanity,
my vanilla whitewash
that makes me invisible, intolerable.
But when I talk about it,
I'm doing something wrong.
But when I keep it to myself,
I'm doing something wrong.
But when I do the best I can,
I'm doing something wrong.
My tenderness, all vulnerable,
is found by the side of the road,
a deer who should've known better
but didn't.

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