Just A Few Things That I Ain’t

It is a different decade and dimension,
and I am mindful of what may lie outside of my window,
so I simply do not look.

I remember running from my reflection,
making wishes on every available star for her freedom,
watching the world worry less, soften and mind their business,
but by the time my race was over,
another cycle had started.

It was a different decade and dimension.
The words were the same,
audibly, but they felt different in our mouths,
and I was afraid to tell anyone that I’d seen the world before,
so different, less difficult,
but it wouldn’t do for me to be difficult,
so I kept it to myself.

I wanted to be safe,
but the opportunity for that has passed me by,
so now, I am wrapped in the wayward arms of a riddle,
playing an impossible game of impossible things, with people who were quite possibly the most smug and boring people to ever exist.

I am a player,
and I am a prize.
The rules are unclear, but it is made clear that they are stacked against me, and that I deserve that.
I must find a way to deal with it.
Swallow the situation and circumstances,
like a good girl,
or a helpless, horrid bitch.

Mouth, open.
Mind, open.
Soul, open.
Wardrobe, open.

There is a war,
and I am an ally and attacker.
I am weak and cannot survive without you, and I am strong enough to stand atop you as your oppressor.
These things are not in doubt, competition or contradiction.
I am the daughter of a witch,
who swings from South to West, depending on how agreeable I am,
and I am homesick for the lost future that left in a hurry while I was playing hide and seek.

It is a different decade and dimension,
and it is painful to consider what may lie outside of my window,
so I simply do not look.
I lock myself up,
safe and sound,

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