"Sadness"
Pop her, pop the stitches,
carved inside a silly little girl,
don't tickle her, teenage madness,
Sylvia, a poet in the oven, why
could I relate, burning, overturned
and churning, my gut is telling me
to leave this place, call it fate, God
dammit, I feel so twisted inside,
blasted memory, why did I have
to be the strange one, and why
am I no longer living, though
halfway, I am not afraid, of
death, that's a lie, I'm not
afraid of what I should
be because sometimes
even the sadness
soothes me.