I want attention
I want a foundry
Without knowing what it is…
What can I take?
Lilted and stilletoed
No one knows better than the moon
I’m just spouting dissidence and distraction
But ask my nails: Do you like chalk?
Nothing is better than bollocks
I don’t know where the bow locks
Or where the landlord pays his rent
We are all traction-resistant
There is no need for nuisance
I try to yell
This quaint little whimpering sound comes out
Was that me?
Am I already this old?
To take it another place
I haven’t a clue
But sometimes my forehead feels numb
Doesn’t say a damn thing about my brain
Then we were young again
And now it’s raining
Sticking to canon
All the bells
Aaaand I ran out.