Awkward tap of toe
Unwelcomed breath of sigh
Cowardly shake of whisper

They’re coming in, Houston
Loud and clear

Turn them up louder while you
Go medieval on me and dump
Boiling words upon my back
Throw me down a well
And cry “She’s a witch!”
I’ll just drown before

Tumbling down stairs
Puzzle pieces of me disconnecting
Flung into the basement
Sucked in by dust bunnies and
Moths
Until the image has
Shattered

Just like

Stain glass windows
Distorting each eyes view
Blue, red, green, yellow,
Grey
With a hint of violet
They try to see the multi-coloured priest inside
Missing the picture the glass makes
It’s their loss

Cheers to the race I did not run
Exhausted I am still

That’s what you get when you walk
Life in high stilettos

Now spill the milk across the floor
Cry over the damage done
Then try to read my lips through
The cheerios floating around

I'm sorry, you'll have to wait
For any theory to myself,
But please, make yourself comfortable,
And take a number.

 
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