(2014)
Psoriasis
#Psoriasis
Springtime means Berry pickin’ In warm sun Therapeutic Part of me
Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt
Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up
Steamroller Of life Passed by Feeling down Squished
A fresh faced country girl Who pioneers on her bicycle Catches the eye Of a transplant from Houston Love begins through letters
Strong hands Hold me down To the bed I say to them I have to go
Are you ever tired Of just being you? Did you ever Want to be Someone new?
The strings that attach me To this world Ground me Yes they sometimes Keep me from flying
Who am I? I am me When did I Become me? As I recall
Does it hurt? When you prick your finger No I do this just for fun Our fingers lose feeling
I had it all In my head And then I said Words I do not know which ones
My objective is selfish Not to share or be heard To get it out and move on No one seems to hear my pain No one seems to feel my pain
I find richness In the mixture In what others disdain Young people lost Between two cultures
A joke Lost in Translation You will Never
My body is perfect —ly spotted The white spots I tell myself Are my Bambi spots