I am home, on my couch, reading.
I am having one of my outer body experiences.
I hover over my own head and tell myself words –
“What a stupid idiot you are!
How can you spend so much time
Who doesn’t see you are a Star?
How can you write all these beautiful poems
Without feeling shameful about who you are writing them for?
That man chose to walk out your door!
Oh God, what a blur.
Whether you write to him or for cure,
You are expressing true love into thin air,
Letting all know of your prolonging despair.
What are you doing?
Go get a nine to five,
Stop being You,
Stop being Love.”
At first I get so offended by myself,
How can I be so mean?
I have to remind myself I am a Queen.
I will forget about this mess and keep it clean.
But I will not get a nine to five,
And I stay Love.