i want it to be easy set it free, as effortless as saying ‘i am me’
words spinning thoughts birthing tears falling body breaking
where is the motive? the drive to thrive? so afraid of failing, i never tried to try.
a burn-out from analysis; death by my own mind listless with 'what ifs’ no positivity as my guide.
money. my burden. my nightmare. my master. my barrier to being 'me’
if no dollars weighed on my soul i believe i would be set free
paint, prose, pictures, puppy noses, baby toes, flowers, cookies, fresh folded clothes
the things i know.
what in the world can a girl do with those?
i have potential but where does it go?
school stole my splendor, ive been packaged, sold, and capitalized; a lifetime of debt to reprise,
a decorative piece of paper: the juice seems unworthy of the squeeze thousands of dollar signs later - im still building 'me’