By What I Don't Say...

Hey woman

How's Norman?

Same moan and groan-

Stage

You mask your face in?

Is your soul still marinating

In your same-ness?

Your sick monotony-

Or did you re-arrange it?

Clean out the clutter;

Scoop

Out the broken-ness with your tea-spoon

You have in the cupboard?

Perfect for when you're a trophy wife...

Or a pretty statue

Of a

fourth place

Bronze winner

Want-to-be.

Or have you progressed since last November?

No progression does not equal

Mocking-birds

Sweetie.

Though I know I'm a tempting

Little bird to be.

Sing your dull song while it's still in you;

Because all his apathy will ruin you-

Run your fingers through it till it eats you

And you'll never stop running

Because you'll have nowhere to retreat

To.

Jealous because I'm golden?

Always.

Am I angry because you stole it?

I'm laughing.

Mercy doesn't wait inside this fear smelling

Beast.

And baby,

Your intimidation never sleeps.