How come I can pick my ears. But not my nose. Who made up that rule anyway. How can you say that's the way it is. . That's just the way it goes. Why don't you decide for yourself.
I'm a pixie. I'm a paper doll. I'm a cartoon. I'm a chipper cheerful free for all. . And I light up a room. I'm the color me happy girl. Miss live and let live.
Life knocked me off my platforms. So I pulled out my first pair of boots. Bought on the street at Astor place. Before new york was run by suits. And I suited up for the long walk.
Lately I've been glaring into mirrors picking myself apart. You'd think at my age I'd thought of something better to do. Than making insecurity into a full time job.
You're taking up lots of space. Your shit is everywhere. Your breath is all up in my face. Your hands are swarming in the air. You're the first one out of the car and then.
Who knew. At this party that. I would walk in and I'd see you. I guess now. . We could just get drunk. Yeah, and that would be our excuse. You could slip.
You crawled into my bed. Like some sort of giant insect. And I found myself spellbound. At the sight of you there. . Cocooned in my room,. Beautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuff.
Pale purple nipples, goose pimpled. She shivers shifts from a walk to a trot. Alone in the city infested with faces. Immune to new friendships. . Interested in places she's never seen.
I was born to two immigrants. Who knew why they were here. They were happy to pay taxes. For the schools and roads. Happy to be here. They took it seriously.
Thirty-three years go by. And not once do you come home. To find a man sitting in your bedroom. That is. A man you don't know. Who came a long way to deliver one very specific message:.
I'll be your biggest fan. I will be your fool. I'll be your exception. To whatever the rule. And I ain't the type to bitch. I ain't the type to cry. I'll sit at your red light and wait.