The nurse who would be sucking my blood that day was a;
Beyonce-singing;
Hip-swinging;
Needle-wielding ninja;

She turned to me once and said,
"These kids are trouble,"
Before pressing play and containing us in our own music bubble.

"...they don't love you like I love you..."

There went the needle.

"...somethin' don't feel right..."

Blood followed gravity,
Filling the bag at my side.

"...jealous or crazy? jealous or crazy? I'd rather be crazy..."

My thoughts followed gravity,
And I began freaking out (on the inside).