She'sTied down and throughToo stubborn to give inBeen waiting for the right minuteCommitted to the missionAbolition in its physical formStormy-eyed and determined to flyWhy we resist and finally FiercePierced these chainsVeins under skin trying to break outAbout to burstCursed to never feel freedom or what the idea wasAbuzz with deafening sound filling her mindBlinded by pain because the ropes were too tightAlright, sort of, now that the truth is knownOnly been dreaming this whole timeCrying because it’s too hard to swallow –This whole time she’s actually been hollow.
HowWhen the stronger onesPush the smarter onesUnderwaterUntil they can't hold their breath anymoreWhat am I left to do?When caring for your childrenBecame glaring at your childrenFull of contemptUntil they had to turn awayWhat am I left to do?When you can no longerPretend that you're happyOr that everything's okayHow do I beg for help?
Ceiling FanWhen I was younger, I loved my job. I did everything I was made to; for the most part what they said made me unique is that I’m so quiet. Or at least, I was. I marvel when I remember my youthful self: so full of energy, and yet so sickeningly obedient, leaping into action at the very moment action was requested. Nowadays, if I even try to convince myself that I have that spark still in me, I only sputter to life, coughing and sometimes groaning too loudly, and end up disappointing myself while distressing others.I was so dense back then! Such an airhead. I should have known it wouldn’t be so fun all the time. The clients ignored me for so long, about 7 months at a time! I was a fool to think nothing of it – a fool to believe that living in such a way okay (I watched the dresser get opened every day, never forgotten!). I always was so ready to work again, like a stupid, excited puppy who kept getting tricked into a faux game of fetch. All