worry
 is worse
 for the soul
 than sin 

 do you ever go to a party
 and look around
 and wonder
 how is everyone so normal?
  
 I wish it would rain more often
 so everyone would just stay inside
 then I could lie in bed knowing
 a lot of happy people are doing the same
  
 that’s the situation 
 where I’d be most like happy people 

 when I think too hard
 I get dizzy
 then realize
 my breath couldn’t keep up
 with my thoughts  

you’re my shadow
 only warmer
 and kinder
 and more full of life  

how exotic
 where are you from?
 asked no one
 of the middle-aged white woman
  
 do you get it now?
 good 

 it’s too much
 let my teeth rot
 and my body go unwashed
 and my hair stay greasy 
 my clothes are scattered on the floor
  
 if I sound funny to you
 then you’re not my audience
 go away
 I’m too much for you  

 my husband
 loves me
 the way
 I wish
 I could
 love myself 

 you taught me to talk less
 better seen and not heard
 you went so far as to tell me
 that people would take me more seriously
 if I spoke less
 because it would imply that any time I do talk
 it must be important
 for me to break my silence
 it’s always the quiet ones
 who are perceived as smart
 and as having things worth saying
 yet somehow
 ever since you’ve told me this
 my pen hasn’t left my hand

 I could eat you for breakfast
 and still be grossed out
 to find you in my toilet 

 what if
 all this time
 we were wrong about the concept of sin?
 what if
 there are only good people
 bad people
 and a lot of in-between people?
 and what if
 most people can’t tell the type they are?
 there’s no use in labeling everything inaccurately
 live life
 as it is natural to you