My breasts feel larger today.
They are filled with the love and happiness I feel for you.

The liquid I drink is green and bright.
I have four forks and a spoon.
They are dirty, used, lonely, seperated from their mates.
I should take them home.
But I can barely move.

Loud, raunchy noises burst through the speakers, they calm my nerves.
Annoys everyone else.
I've never been one for caring.
They gossip and sit and stare.
I always think they talk about me, in hushed voices.

"Youknow,theweirdonethatsitsrightthere."
"Ohyeah,you'reright,sheisweird."
"Whatdoyouthinkiswrong?"
"Badparenting,perhaps."
"Itwouldn'tsurpriseme."

To be called weird makes me warm inside,
My life's goal is to be different than everyone else.
I hope that's what they say about me.

Four pens in a row.
My shoes are filled with puffy stars.
I poke them, and they pop like silver balloons.
Loose staples run amok on my desk.
I should clean those up as well.
Pop lids and candy wrappers.
I am such a mess.

I believe in you, I believe in me.