(2015)
Bags full of diapers Cars waiting in line Smell coming from the load Ashamed it was mine He noticed my insulin pump
¿Te duele Cuándo piques tu dedo? No Lo hago por pura diversión Lo que duele
You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this
Antisocial tendencies Amplified by sickness I can people watch Yet I can’t people talk I am lonely
You must commit To an outfit Where are you going? In sporty yoga pants Athletic top
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
If I was in a beauty pageant My talent would be 'Lefty who writes upside-down’ Beside the contestant Who burps her ABC’s
My soft spot My sweet boy I’d do anything for Who convinced me Little boys are the best
I crave stability Neither wandering spirit Nor home-body Yes I’d love to travel But the foundation
How can I write how I feel When what I feel is nothing? How can I tell you what I need, What is wrong? When what is wrong
How do you describe A man so dramatic? You can recognize him From afar with his hat Always the gentleman
Your enthusiasm exhausts me This coke is flat The bubbles disperse Leaving a sticky and sweet Aftertaste
It’s not that I’m sad Though I am It’s not that I’m discouraged Though I am It soaks deeper
I need to tell you How to survive With our disposition It’s okay to cry Maybe
If I could draw a tree In all it’s complexity Would you be impressed? If I could draw a human face It would be but a trace