i pray in my fever
for many things
like a to-do list
they've piled in my head
yesterday i cried
stared God in the face, and spoke
that i deserved better, more
than slamming doors
and the grave mood of the attic
and
parents just dont understand
parents just dont understand
a routine of medications
writing, and coffee
at any given moment
like waiting on the world to change
but i do not have the essentials
wine, for example
which i hear is good to wet
the soul with
or crackers and cheese
but i have fruit
and other half-tasy things
i'm misunderstood
no one really gets me
and the songs i play
no one gets them either
just because i'm always crashing cars
and i'm not so meek
doesn't mean i should be trapped
in cold beds, and dogfood conversation