Playing my Sympathy

Seven different directions bring the marrow of the bones to boil. I hurt and am fatigued. Being optimal doesn't mean response. I fight and the teams assemble. This day is blurry and has no friends. All work together to see me cry in an open space. Clouds part as their way is clear. I feel dizzy and I promise myself that this will be. The dogs revert to puppy behavior as they wish to see the savior. I am defined, but my blessings go to all beings as I sit confused on a park bench. Out there I see the sunshine and a rainbow is close behind. My travels have brought me to a space where clothes are option. I am not a guest, I am a servant girl that they bang and slam around with complete impunity. Altered atmosphere does have consequences that relate to bees. I see you here. You are dressed in a dress. It is a mess. Food is your caress. You believe that everyone owes you something. What do you do on a daily basis to deserve it? You are demonic and the clouds do too. You have a cirrus problem with upper corporate authority. Maybe it is all of the LSD you do do. You may pray for peace, but your heart is war everyday. It is time to have people taken away. Black swamp thing ain't your thing. He followed to commit you sexually to Anoka that day. I guess that you really know what you are doing. Don't say it out loud, or they will claim public sexual acts in front of a sexual baby. Whistle while you work and bring the showers of Edinborough your way. Silent all these years.