I didn’t allow my thoughts to roam
I told myself not to muse
I didn’t allow the flesh of
My calves or thighs or wrists to bruise
I didn’t allow my dreams to stick
I ushered them out the door
I shut my unconscious with a brick
I blocked off the id’s back door
I didn’t allow my armpit hair
To grow past an eighth of an inch
I watched the news and didn’t sigh,
Regurgitate or flinch
I didn’t allow my tongue to taste
The nutritional blend I drank
I hitched an anchor to
My moral compass so it sank
I didn’t allow my spending to be
More than half what I earned in a year
I didn’t drink water in order
To hinder my eyeball
From forming a tear
I didn’t allow my rage to flow
I bottled up all my grief
But that was then, and now
I’m liable to weep
At the sight of ground beef.
