i speak too much
i let all of my thoughts and opinions spill out and onto you like red wine spills on a cream carpet
i have too many opinions things i collect and keep like an older woman collects bibles or cat figurines
my bullheadedness the way i refuse to back down from anything and fight on through
my attitude sour and off-putting at first glance but my only protection upon further inspection
the mean look i learned to paint on my face thick and heavy are my downturned mouth and knit brow bringing out the lines between
some ugly words and a mean ass face this
nasty woman
didn't come here to chit-chat
she came to lecture or else stay quiet
didn't come to socialise
didn't come to get hit on
doesn't want to be told to smile
just wants to safely exist
just wants to get a coffee
just wants to stop being so afraid
