pretending im someone im not, just for the thrill

you cant catch crazy but you sure can try. sometimes i think ive been crazy since the day i was born. 3:30 on the dot. theres something rotten inside me and it wont go away, passed down generation to generation, like an heirloom or a curse, filth polished to a sheen and if you really try sometimes you can see the creeping decay in the corners of my smile or the decomposing baby teeth under my mattress. i dont know i guess ive just always liked the idea of spoiled milk. along with the rot and sewer sludge trudging its way thru my veins you can find the stickywet pulp of reams and reams of sheet music. i feel you looking at me through the glossy magazine pages, seething with jealousy. it really isnt all its cracked up to be. i am my fathers daughter. i am my mothers son. maybe this time i can finally look back. sweet dreams.

nurse j