alice under siege.

i hate the ties that bind
us to our past
hopeless heritage
broken ancestry
cursed legacy

why must the blade always be brought
to the dinner table
for the inevitable defense
why must the barbs always come
on the underside of greenbacks
with selfish intents

the ties that bind
my hands behind my back
my sight turning black
this cord around my neck

and she pulls
and she pulls
and i snap
and i snap

the dye is cast and
the black sheep is in
everybody laugh
she’s the scapegoat again
at the whim of the mad hatter
and that bitch queen of hearts
paint the roses red
though the garden falls apart

eighteen years and counting
this nomad has roamed
where all the free range chickens
find a voice of their own
​
truth will be honored
both within and without
let kindness and conviction
be the words in your mouth
so bleed all the bloodlines
and fat-timber the tree
she’s writing a new story
and the soul shall be free.