Streams of Free-Flowing Thoughts in a Cage

i kind of feel like someone sucked on a lemon then spit in my eye.

i kind of feel like i jumped off a cliff with an invisible noose around my neck, and right when i was about to die, someone yanked me back up with a rude tug and yelled, WAIT-- THERE'S MORE!

i kind of feel like i sold my soul for money then tried to buy it back.

i kind of feel like someone swallowed me whole then flushed straight down the crapper into no man's land.

i kind of feel like rust flavoured ice cream scraped off a plate after a birthday party.

i kind of feel like a broken telephone broadcasting a sos to the invisible listener.

i kind of feel like an empty room.

a flower pot.
a broken chair.
dirty underwear.
shattered plates.
a hotel room.

a girl, yawning lazily to no one in particular... about nothing. she sighs, slowly, and nibbles at a hangnail as she stares into space.

a girl, skinny shoulders, skinny legs. green eyes, sallow smile, fragile ribs.

a girl, special delivery, on your doorstep.

a girl, a waitress, a stewardess, a laundress. your wife, friend, mother.

a girl, staring up at the full moon and wondering if the man is staring back.

a girl, mousy brown from the sun shining carelessly across her shoulders.

a girl. she's just a girl, after all.


so you take care not to blame her, but to protect her.
save her from the world you live in.
shelter her from unknowns and dangers.

don't blame the girl.
don't blame the girl for the loss of innocence.
crimson and clover.
daisies to roses.


Zoe.