Sometimes when I’m living, I get stuck
and I think
god, I have something inside blocking it all up
so I come here
and I write like a madman
with an eyeglass clenched in my eye
and I think
heck, if someone were to walk in
and see me
they’d think
man, is that girl insane?
And if they were to ask me out loud
strait to my ears
I’d say
well, I kind of feel like it
I kind of feel like this thing inside me is blocking me up
I feel like all my crazy is holding down all my beauty
so I try to get all my crazy out
that’s why I wear this eye piece
and this tie with creepy babies on it
and these huge pink heals
that are 10 times to big for my feet
and use to belong to my great aunt sue
But no one ever comes in
and no one ever says I’m crazy
so I’m forced to write poems about it
and stare at myself
in the little handheld mirror on my desk
and say to my reflection
'your insane'
