You'll Find Me in the Pantryyou'll find me wedgedMore Like This
between the crisco
and the mixing machine
patting flour off my sweater,
trying to convert a quarter-cup
of sugar into metric
muttering to myself
ProblemsA clean wrist,More Like This
an empty slate.
One to design,
and one to create.
A stomach that craves,
what makes you bigger.
A desire you need,
but lose your figure.
FarewellCrackle, crackle, watch my bones break.More Like This
Watch my eyes melt, and heart slowly shake.
See my skin peel from my face, for now begins the endless race.
The race with death, the one I won't win.
For I am too weak, too brittle and thin.
Say farewell for me, to no one I ask.
Except for the one behind the mask.
The Pen [Draft]The Pen, the PenMore Like This
Knows where I've been
Everywhere and when
The Pen, the Pen.
The Pad, the Pad
Records when I'm sad
Or the most glad
The Pad, the Pad.