When I was little
I read Goodnight moon every night.
And I'd goodnight kiss my bed.
And my door.
And my rocking chair.
And the floor.
And then I'd set up four little stuffed animal guards,
Back to back,
To watch the four walls of my room.
So that all the demons couldn't get to me.
They were my troops.
If I closed my eyes,
The ceiling was made of raindrops,
Frozen still.
But they weren't cold.
If I layed flat on my back,
I could hear the sound of my guards talking.
Mutiny they said.
They were going to over throw me.
They had secretly been the demons the whole time.
Those sneaky little *******.
So I crushed them under the weight of my toys,
That very second.
And the next day I pierced all their ears with a bidazler.
And I drew them tattoos.
I made them the thugs they wanted to be.
They didn't like it.
Repented for their sins.
But I used no crayola.
Punishment is a sharpie,
I had told them that before.
And that was the night I realized
I'm so much stronger than the demons.
I do not need a guard.
Goodnight moon.

Cheesy eighties shows make me feel like
Being a bulimic alcoholic is a good choice.
Why is everyone so ugly?
That's a confidence booster.
I could cry over the amount of sunlight I see.
I'm like a little warrior,
Standing on a hilltop of daisies,
With a pair of pink, sparkly safety scissors in my hand,
And a smirk of a five year old genius across my face.
Take my hand and tell me I'm perfect,
That my scars are beauty marks,
My absolute beauty is incomparable,
That I'm your china doll.
As you lay me down on your bed,
And let me know that I'm the only girl for you,
This week.
Take away my safety scissors.
Condescend me.
Tell me I do not know what I am talking about.
But I see everything from my daisy hill, you know.