Welcome to My Barren Womb Theater by Donna Dallas

I feel like a broke ass po bitch from a trailer park in
the Everglades I feel like I did when I was ten and Lisa Sacristan picked
through my hair with a pen searching
for lice but it was just dirt and dandruff Lisa for the record………
I’m on a roll save me – save me from myself I ask
this sometimes when blood and guts ooze
out other times I’m dry as bone this time
1:04am in a town somewhere in the womb of the Gold Coast I hear
the world is falling apart one scorched woodchip at a time and I
can CNN or google or INSTA all the drama at any given moment yet
I’m so caught up in my own little world of
make believe the taxi drivers mouth dropped
open when he discovered I had no idea people died
in California or Oregon or where ever the fuck as
I’m too wrapped up in something called self-loathing and oh
yeah here is where I stop naturally but if I took it one step – just
another step over the edge of confession – you’d understand
I am a selfish NYC bitch with angst
that dates back to
dirty hair dirty feet and yeah they didn’t show me how to wash how
to clean myself and when Lisa S picked through my hair I knew – I utterly
and completely knew how very imperfect – no no
that’s not the right word – how
I really was and flaws root and flaws spread
like tumbleweeds through a desert and open up
into gaping balls of mental disarray yet I
pull it together so fucking perfect for 8-10
hours a day claw at myself on the train home
monsters in my head monsters under the bed…..still there
at night – the boogey man – I’m human I swear
I just want some quiet and enough mental focus to say
my last prayer for every creeping thing……

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