Streaming Brain

When I was a little girl is funny
because I never was
A cold breeze is a distraction.
At this point anything is and I just stop trying to be creative with this and I just let the words fall down. I wish.
I'm sick as fuck and don't need this to be my life right now.
I need to worry about school.
I need to focus.
Stop thinking about it
it'll just go away.
Wrong.
It stares at me every morning, which is fair
I guess
because so do they.
Sometimes it makes me laugh, sometimes cry.
This poem is ass.
A cold breeze reminds me that something else is out there
It might be the answer I need
I still hear helicopters. carrying bodies.
And I think of tear gas and riot cops
broken windows and bus rides out of state
of people who just wanted to go home.
The smoke is so thick that my tears have nowhere to go.
They keep pushing me back,
but I need to go home too.
Police to protect society.
Rules, norms, stereotypes
police. protect.
Brutalize, Berate, Batter, Bludgeon, Bash, Bombard, Blitzkrieg
abuse. tread on me.
Friday night dinner and drinks. And everything felt better once I told him. 4 words seemed enough.
And maybe I was just drunk and (but?) that was our best night ever.
Forced to go. Wrong. Gladly so.
I could tell the night was going to be fun
when i got yelled at for being in the wrong bathroom
(How do I tell anymore?)
And just smiled to myself as the door closed upon the silence.
Drunken cab ride home. Happiness for real this time, guys.
Maybe because I let a few people know
that this might be where I want to go
And some chose
to follow
me.
I dropped a bomb and no one's dead so things must be pretty good.