numbers

 My arms and legs are too big for me
I've been brought up in the drama pool
school washed it off
But i'm still dirty

I take this view of the world
my voice and words have a grevious and volatile tone
That reverberates into all that disagree
the shaking rage keeping me up nights

grasping coffee and pig sipping it down
slurping it until I get the feel
The raise of the brow automatic
the call to start the day

for waking I must life arms that have hungover the bed
I must ponder my eternal monday
numbers in my head making my eyes tire
I must remember to stretch