birthday assholes

[girlwriter]

eyeballs and monkeys
there's humour somewhere under the unsmiling
i promise
what else could be
the energy that moves
a writer to search for her song
long lost at that intersection
the traffic's too loud
for my music...

there's lost laughter behind the tears
i swear
under the soggy comforter
and dry eyeballs
if only it were found
it would conserve water and sanity
and save the smokey hall closets
from stowaways...

there's doubt in the heart of the much loved
i'm sorry
i would tear this room apart
looking for my sanity
i would call you
if what i wanted to say
didn't change every minute,
if you'd answer...

there's places for people like me
right here
in this person, in this chair
a place to rest my soul
seperate and alone
mislead and manipulated
all i can tell you is
it's late...