I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

It Is Easier Not To Say Anything. Shut Your Trap, Button Your Lip, Can It. All That Crap You Hear On Tv About Communication And Expressing Feelings Is A Lie. Nobody Really Wants To Hear What You Have To Say.

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.

I Shake My Head. I Pick Up The Rake And Start Making The Dead-leaf Pile Neater. A Blister Pops And Stains The Rake Handle Like A Tear. Dad Nods And Walks To The Jeep, Keys Jangling In His Fingers. A Mockingbird Lands On A Low Oak Branch And Scolds Me. I Rake The Leaves Out Of My Throat. Me: "can You Buy Some Seeds? Flower Seeds?

He Doesn't See My Breasts Or My Waist Or My Hips. He Only Sees The Nightmare.

I Have Ten Bucks In My Pocket - What To Spend It On? French Fries - Ten Dollars' Worth Of French Fries, Ultimate Fantasy.