Say "Sienara"
to this diorama
of my life.
I'm tired of being a clay-mation
in this old shoe box of a situation.
Stop trying to mold my mind
its not made out of clay like my outsides.
Die my hair, put makeup on my face
even drag me around and put me in a new place.
Draw me speech bubbles with words of your own
but my thought bubbles will out shadow those.
Your insecurities about me act as coal
for the fire in my belly,
that drives my un-mold-able mind
so to you MR. MAN! I am NO tool of any kind.
thanks for reading. please critique!! How else could i get better??
