Shelf Life

Day after day you.
Invade my space you.
Stick your hands in and.
Press your face close and.
Fog up the glass.

Am I really so.
Entertaining I.
Just lay here and.
Take care of my.
Life-needs but you.
Seem to find that.
Far too interesting for.
Me to be.
At ease.

I don't understand you.
You flat-faced captor you.
Hand that feeds me and.
Thinks yourself great while.
Exposing my life for.
Your own amusement.

Just because I.
Have no words or.
Legs or vote and.
Can't get out does.
Not mean I.
Enjoy it here.

How about we.
Switch roles just for.
One day so you.
Can see the need I have.
To bury myself in.
Wood chips to.
Ensure that I.
Can't be seen.




So in my poetry class we had to write a 'Research Poem'. I was like 'What the crap is a research poem???' Somehow, writing from a different perspective fit in. Anyway, it's nearly 11pm, and I realized at about... idk... 10pm that my research poem is due at midnight. So I feverishly grabbed a notebook, and this poem about a pessamistic* snake just kinda fell out. Weird. But I really liked it and now I just don't wanna go to bed so I'm rambling.... sighhhh.... Somehow I became 8 years old again. Idk how I managed it, but I did.