A poem of how I just captured a princess who had lost her way...
I write this silly shit about...
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,
And comes from a country far away as health.
-- Sylvia Plath
And I think,
I'm doing okay