wasn't she easy?
wasn't she pretty in pink?
it's been a long time since i was so conflicted
i made the decisions
i pretended not to see
i stayed on my shelf
i was safe.
the one that insists he was first in the line
is the last to remember her name
now i am out of control
inside my own head
my body betrays me
and i lost the ability to say no
and the spine to back it up
he's walking around in this dress that she wore . . .
everywhere i turn
there is someone with a hand out
to touch
to comfort
to give
to take
to hold
to pull
too much
too many hands
too many needs
too many wicked ideas
hatching little eggs in my brain
too much