Didn’t they know that people cared? That they were loved? Why didn’t someone tell them?

My parents always say We’re proud of you I am too I got out of bed I used to get so much done

Strong hands Hold me down To the bed I say to them I have to go

Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses

Ask any female Love Is in the details I love you Three greatest words

Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up

Filler words Put me to sleep Added to cushion Take away my pillow Blunt words to wake up

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

By nature high-strung But I thought I was strong If not physically, emotionally For things to roll off my back Be mature and take the high road

The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me

Scratchy plaid blanket Red with yellow stripes Hot and itchy underneath Claustrophobia strikes Purple and blue prisms

Love is sincere Sincerely Wanting to connect Love makes you crazy Insanity that makes you fly