I’m accustomed to nice things,
Like purple ribbons and blue balloons.
He crept up during the night,
With flashing lights and silver spoons.
A good night combed my hair straight through,
But it left the comb twisted and tangled.
He’s always watching from the corner,
The corner’s watching from an angle.
He tempts me with glimpses of dusk,
Hoping that I’ll take a long walk.
He’s betting I’ll have a nervous breakdown,
But my breakdowns refuse to talk.
The shadows often come to spy out the land,
Sometimes I can even hear them creeping.
They know the sunshine can’t reach the garden,
And they know the vegetables are full of secrets.
They tried to catch me on a spaghetti night,
But I knew it all too good and well.
The windows and doors sealed themselves shut,
And my sweet tomatoes will never tell.
I see him peeking through a window,
But I don’t find his looks intimidating,
Because my eyes are also a glowing bright red,
And the weight on my shoulders is twice as heavy.
My soul set out like an armed navy ship,
Refusing to suffer such a shameful defeat.
My soul crushed like an armed navy ship,
Under the weight of his massive seas.