She tastes behind her throat the creosote that keeps her
In her own home
Her ossein dome
Above the cheekbones
She sees herself without her hair, she wished was there, it's
Harder to be
Not what her dad sees
For now it seems
I won't be confined to believe I was born to be this body
I think they want to be the one to breath on
Me, hold on tight
Not hard or less bright
Fall into their night
I think they want to be the one that shows me
They're in control
There's not just two poles
Some ancient, none old
I won't be confined to believe I was born to be this body
They can hear her talking through me, living, breathing, touching, sanity
