The news hit me Like a punch in the gut I threw up two times From the pain Knowing that I

You must commit To an outfit Where are you going? In sporty yoga pants Athletic top

I need to tell you How to survive With our disposition It’s okay to cry Maybe

He says I could never Get away with murder For I leave Pieces of me everywhere

Why do we love sunsets? Distinguishing fascination What other species Must stop and stare A romantic couple

A joke Lost in Translation You will Never

Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt

I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface

The teenage rebels All fall in line Be they hippies Goths, rockers or skaters Moving from one mould

Bags full of diapers Cars waiting in line Smell coming from the load Ashamed it was mine He noticed my insulin pump

If I could paint a man Eyes so dark they shine Brooding and stormy Til the smile breaks through If I could paint a man