Letting go

I unpack my words carefully,
like moving boxes
From a now empty home
Let them settle themselves,
Glass plates full of talking,
 Lying vulnerable and bare.
I do not cover them,
do not pull a blankets to shield them from being broken
I let them be, and I walk away.

I stop at a reflection
 Of what,
 I cannot see,
One foot in front of the other
Conquering what I will be.

The puppet articulates to the indifferent

I am poised,
Prim, perfect, polished
Everything I could be and more, and you
You come in threatening, like a tornado
The dark sky before the storm
 stealing the thunder from my mouth before it can open
And aren't you envious
Of everything I can be?
 I manifest everything cute and special and you, clump around,
A moutain of a girl, you are not small enough, and polite enough, do not smile and bat your eyes at the right people
You cannot calm my fire, you cannot make them choose you. When it comes down to it I am storybook, the main character of a novel, and you cannot even impact the plot. Shrug your shoulders and pretend it doesn't get to you. I know it does, watch as the glow of my teeth fade into nothingness, I know you will remember.

I guess a poem about Corporate America

It ignites, the corporate greed

Swallowing employees like a whirlpool 

Gray walls, cement floor, scripted

The thing about being disingenuous is there is usually someone behind the scenes, a larger hand at play, 

Be my puppet it breathes,

"Make my money"

 it grits through perfect teeth

Take this number and make it your identity, take my words and let them coil around your tounge. Remember to smile and say thank you as you carry the weight on your already cracking spine. 

"Be grateful" they coo, " you could be them" they cry, senseless, and selfish the demands grow 

as they work to replace you with machines. 

A cog in a corporate wheel, inevitably turning and with it, the livelihood of thousands go too. 

Ring Leader

Welcome,
To my own show,
Where I am contained,
Watch my acrobat hormones,
My seratonin backflipping, dopamine twisters, cortisol oceans,
a god damn mess of a show. Girl.
A mess of a showgirl.
all stumbling words and frantic fingertips.
Let me show you my emotions,
 A tornado behind glass
Let me know if I entertain you, laugh at my sloppy steps falling just short of a rhythm
That is what I am here for.

This is my circus, but I am not the ring leader, Notice my strings,
and you will see its shadow pulling them just behind the curtains.