This is a farewell to Ms. Jane. The whore hanging
on my back. The sea winds never sung so loudly before,
with my ears plugged of her calls.
The world has never been so bright before, but
was still tinted with bloodshot vision.
The demon didn't have wings, so she crawled instead on ashy
elbows. And laid her head on my pubes. I was blind, my eyes are wide the fuck open now. Watching, as she jumps from bed to bed and I made sure to step out of the way so she would’t fall on my dick.
No babies because her thin tubes, were tight tied
around her fucking neck, and the lack of oxygen must be driving her mind
away from sanity, if she think she could still be mine.
I say think again Ms. Jane
Monday, March 29, 2010
Just me, part 1
She is just me. A girl who drinks tap water from a jug by her bed, just so she didnt have to lift her head and venture into the bathroom to sip from the faucet. Sticky notes and unreadable prose lines
the walls inside and outside her dwelling place. Because she is too scared to go and let the sun shine on her face. She likes it better in the dark. Where no one can see that she is just a girl who is in denial of the love that epically fails over and over...for the right reasons. But she is stubborn.
She begs her mother to take back as her daughter because she didnt want to be a women. Because she was frighten and hurt and she didnt want to be a grown up anymore. Too care less and feel less, when it comes to living the good life she is poor.
Over coming her shyness years ago but she cant let go the thoughts of what their thoughts were about her. Sometimes she forgets about me, and forget that it is not her but me they see.
Just me.
the walls inside and outside her dwelling place. Because she is too scared to go and let the sun shine on her face. She likes it better in the dark. Where no one can see that she is just a girl who is in denial of the love that epically fails over and over...for the right reasons. But she is stubborn.
She begs her mother to take back as her daughter because she didnt want to be a women. Because she was frighten and hurt and she didnt want to be a grown up anymore. Too care less and feel less, when it comes to living the good life she is poor.
Over coming her shyness years ago but she cant let go the thoughts of what their thoughts were about her. Sometimes she forgets about me, and forget that it is not her but me they see.
Just me.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Laws of Force
Desire to the third power is life.
With no sure punishment for
sin, all is corruptable.
Force is the square root
of all evil. Causing
action to reaction to never equal
freedom!
With no sure punishment for
sin, all is corruptable.
Force is the square root
of all evil. Causing
action to reaction to never equal
freedom!
Jumping
This is farewell to the her that is holding me back. The winds never sung so loud before. The world never been so bright, still tinted red because of the bloodshot vision.
Naughty demons didnt have wings. So obvious now it being the reason she fell the first time. She was blind then but her eyes were wide the fuck open now.
Expecting the drop changes history, because she has glided down around the block a couple times.
Remember no surprises.
Naughty demons didnt have wings. So obvious now it being the reason she fell the first time. She was blind then but her eyes were wide the fuck open now.
Expecting the drop changes history, because she has glided down around the block a couple times.
Remember no surprises.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Broken windows
It was another accident
Something she couldnt quiet comprehend,
With the shade stretch pass her eyes
Blinding from the world her bends and cries
Giving up understanding
The cracks in life she often felt
love them but then love them not
As they leak in more sunlight
Something she couldnt quiet comprehend,
With the shade stretch pass her eyes
Blinding from the world her bends and cries
Giving up understanding
The cracks in life she often felt
love them but then love them not
As they leak in more sunlight
Friday, March 26, 2010
verb equals pain
Verb equals pain.
Just as the water flow out her body
across the bridge and down the faucet equates to her turning away
from the subject reflected across from her
So disgusted.
At a one person party that everyone is invited to. Celebrating life
in the deep depths of the bathroom. The verb
rising and overflows.
Remembering verb equals pain and pain
equals life which is now pouring
down the drain faster than the pouring water rise.
Holding her breath to the music no one can hear.
Because no one showed.
Because life equates to no longer needing to be surprised
Just as the water flow out her body
across the bridge and down the faucet equates to her turning away
from the subject reflected across from her
So disgusted.
At a one person party that everyone is invited to. Celebrating life
in the deep depths of the bathroom. The verb
rising and overflows.
Remembering verb equals pain and pain
equals life which is now pouring
down the drain faster than the pouring water rise.
Holding her breath to the music no one can hear.
Because no one showed.
Because life equates to no longer needing to be surprised
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Drip drops
Sometimes love is not magical.
Sometimes it melts,
just as her skin drips,
just as her heart drips,
just as swift tears keeps running
for days and days.
Seasons passing by.
New windows are being opened to change.
And yet her body is feeling so cold.
Thank God for new flesh and new faces.
We make life so complicated
just by standing in the rain.
Wishing for God to do the work for us.
To please wash away the pain.
But God is not listening.
Nor is he taking a piss.
She is stepping out of herself and
taking at good look at how pathetic, she once felt.
Now aware that love is not magical.
Some times it just melts.
And keep melting till there is nothing left but the rain.
Sometimes it melts,
just as her skin drips,
just as her heart drips,
just as swift tears keeps running
for days and days.
Seasons passing by.
New windows are being opened to change.
And yet her body is feeling so cold.
Thank God for new flesh and new faces.
We make life so complicated
just by standing in the rain.
Wishing for God to do the work for us.
To please wash away the pain.
But God is not listening.
Nor is he taking a piss.
She is stepping out of herself and
taking at good look at how pathetic, she once felt.
Now aware that love is not magical.
Some times it just melts.
And keep melting till there is nothing left but the rain.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
looking over the edge
Stuck with a jailbird brother and an out of reach lover. Runaway father with a suicidal mother. Such tragic combinations- what does that say about the daughter? A shower to clean off the dirt on her face, peeling back the dead skin on finger tips to reveal yet another maze of problems.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
9:58 pm
Weeds and flowers grown from the ground, simultaneously it creeps up her legs. Dangerous vines wrapping around her two worlds. Choking on her identities, trying mesh her inner-self, with her outer. The feeling is nice as it tickles up her thighs, stroking her stomache, and into her heart it twirls.
But...
Looking at her. Is she being fooled? That isn't what she wants. The Social identity is untouchable and mysterious. A memory one can never quiet recall to the forefront of the mind, is fueled to be remembered by the body. Dangerous. But the dreams still counts it as a feel good incorporation.
Look at me
Her body screamed, pay attention to me! Know who she is. All they heard was told through the grapevine. And its not enough. A pretty distant shell, with a flowery flirtatious nature. All she wants is not to hurt anymore. But then again she likes the thrones. A misinterpret sign of the mind.
What do they know about her? Anything? Nothing really it seems. Because they cant tell if they are getting the flower or the weeds.
But...
Looking at her. Is she being fooled? That isn't what she wants. The Social identity is untouchable and mysterious. A memory one can never quiet recall to the forefront of the mind, is fueled to be remembered by the body. Dangerous. But the dreams still counts it as a feel good incorporation.
Look at me
Her body screamed, pay attention to me! Know who she is. All they heard was told through the grapevine. And its not enough. A pretty distant shell, with a flowery flirtatious nature. All she wants is not to hurt anymore. But then again she likes the thrones. A misinterpret sign of the mind.
What do they know about her? Anything? Nothing really it seems. Because they cant tell if they are getting the flower or the weeds.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Life Guard Father
She finally was able to think.
The muffled sounds of being underwater were not too distracting.
…this time
But increasing pressure pressing against her cranium
The deeper she sinks still made her ears hurt.
Is Father disappointed that she can never stay afloat like he can?
She always thought so.
To her nothing mattered but just making it into the water
Even though she hated being wet but
It has always been different for him.
With his quick strokes and determination to stay on top.
But now that she can think, she has discovered
While peer up at his back as she descends with rapid pace.
That he has always acted as the lifeguard.
As his strong warm hand pulls her back up to the surface yet again.
The muffled sounds of being underwater were not too distracting.
…this time
But increasing pressure pressing against her cranium
The deeper she sinks still made her ears hurt.
Is Father disappointed that she can never stay afloat like he can?
She always thought so.
To her nothing mattered but just making it into the water
Even though she hated being wet but
It has always been different for him.
With his quick strokes and determination to stay on top.
But now that she can think, she has discovered
While peer up at his back as she descends with rapid pace.
That he has always acted as the lifeguard.
As his strong warm hand pulls her back up to the surface yet again.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Morning
She woke up early today, before daylight savings came drizzling into her bedroom. Lying with her eyes closed and body alive with fingers cupped between her thighs.
She still thinks about her. When will too soon no longer be too soon? She has no answer for that. Just because February’s tempest days is fading quickly into the background of her mind, does not wipe away anger or desire. Not completely anyways.
These momentary relapse will be the death of her some day, she thinks as she throws her head back and cums.
She still thinks about her. When will too soon no longer be too soon? She has no answer for that. Just because February’s tempest days is fading quickly into the background of her mind, does not wipe away anger or desire. Not completely anyways.
These momentary relapse will be the death of her some day, she thinks as she throws her head back and cums.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Visitations
The day swallows up the night and the night bath inside the day. Walking on sore feet, with the time needed for rest dwindling down into brief pauses. Her mind blurred with weariness and she longed for the peaceful sleep that only comes when you die.
Chipped promises mends together slower than shatter expectation. Father came to see her today and together they strolled through already had conversations. Forgiving daughter versus bitter memories leaves a bad taste in between her teeth and jaws. I want to be by your side.
She still couldnt tell if he was once again just lying.
Chipped promises mends together slower than shatter expectation. Father came to see her today and together they strolled through already had conversations. Forgiving daughter versus bitter memories leaves a bad taste in between her teeth and jaws. I want to be by your side.
She still couldnt tell if he was once again just lying.
Buying happiness
Unable to see the thick black line that lies between wants verses needs. There no fleeing from the ordinary and popular world because they want to eat your soul. And you give it to them wanting only that blissful feeling of normality in return. The guarentee security is the blanket that smothers us in our sleep.
We are the regular customer of doing things out of habit. We are all victims. Playing tug of war with selling out vs. change while wading knee deep in our shallow superficiality.
We are the regular customer of doing things out of habit. We are all victims. Playing tug of war with selling out vs. change while wading knee deep in our shallow superficiality.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Winter asylums
Crazy People Poetry
Winter passed his trials on to her and listened as the sorrows of such a gift echoed off her mental walls. She hid in padded rooms and was warmed by a cozy straight jacket.
Spring was the fence that needed to be jumped in order to escape to freedom. Clusters of busy days narrowed in fast, taking her hostage but she wouldnt give in to cold demands. For she planned, when mayday come to run.
But she ran, that night instead.
Ripped skin hung off barbed wires and blood trailed down criss-cross metal. She ignored the red on her hands and blistered on her feet. She ran and ran and kept on running. Till she died of hypothermia.
Winter passed his trials on to her and listened as the sorrows of such a gift echoed off her mental walls. She hid in padded rooms and was warmed by a cozy straight jacket.
Spring was the fence that needed to be jumped in order to escape to freedom. Clusters of busy days narrowed in fast, taking her hostage but she wouldnt give in to cold demands. For she planned, when mayday come to run.
But she ran, that night instead.
Ripped skin hung off barbed wires and blood trailed down criss-cross metal. She ignored the red on her hands and blistered on her feet. She ran and ran and kept on running. Till she died of hypothermia.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Blossom at the End of the Body
Leaving this world must be the flower,
its three violet faces turned to the air — a man can't look
at a flower without knowing he's dying.
That's the beauty. Parting must be this little
chance, with its stem and flutter. It's no god
and it's no force and our grief is a rock, a clod,
a punk of earth. Truth is,
what we will miss most
isn't her or him or mother or child but
the particular blue at the side of the field,
the heart's pure botany, for
the body is a science. And there is no
substitute for thing. Not love, not happiness,
not faith. But flower. But flower. But flower.
Beckian Fritz Goldberg
its three violet faces turned to the air — a man can't look
at a flower without knowing he's dying.
That's the beauty. Parting must be this little
chance, with its stem and flutter. It's no god
and it's no force and our grief is a rock, a clod,
a punk of earth. Truth is,
what we will miss most
isn't her or him or mother or child but
the particular blue at the side of the field,
the heart's pure botany, for
the body is a science. And there is no
substitute for thing. Not love, not happiness,
not faith. But flower. But flower. But flower.
Beckian Fritz Goldberg
Dual thoughts
She cant remember the sound of her own voice. Self diganosed insane with a touch of hope. But she is a poet so its makes sense and it can be justified without evidence.
---
She was pregnant. Feeling the body of her child move and form is inspiring. Her a single mother. Was she scared? No. Mostly just tired- so very tired. Imgaining it growing inside her, sometimes that specific thought does frighten her, beause it leads to thinking that no one will love her children but her.
Giving birth to poetry every day. They were all bastards in every possible way. Sometimes they came with lupus, deformed and in pain others with perfect health. But she loved each one, even if she has forgotten about them years later.
---
She was pregnant. Feeling the body of her child move and form is inspiring. Her a single mother. Was she scared? No. Mostly just tired- so very tired. Imgaining it growing inside her, sometimes that specific thought does frighten her, beause it leads to thinking that no one will love her children but her.
Giving birth to poetry every day. They were all bastards in every possible way. Sometimes they came with lupus, deformed and in pain others with perfect health. But she loved each one, even if she has forgotten about them years later.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Mother's baby
I held my stillborn sister in my arms and rocked as she slept on and on...on and on. She had 3 of my names and the same father as brother and I. Same nose and but mothers pretty brown eyes. I wonder if she inherited mama's sickness just like I had.
They say you dont know what you got until what you got is gone. When will you too disappear sweet child? And leave me alone once more? Slowly but surely going completly mad in sorrow and lonieness.
They say you dont know what you got until what you got is gone. When will you too disappear sweet child? And leave me alone once more? Slowly but surely going completly mad in sorrow and lonieness.
Drive
If not now, when? She stared at the passing white lines and was fixated. Deciding to start from the middle instead the end. Because the end was too sad of a place to visit. She was blind and didnt even notice it. What hurts the most is not the break of my heart like the white lines but the beautiful things that will never come to be.
If not us, who? I was offer to go dancing with sweet Lucifer and his lover Brutus. Hearing the words of many but she only listen to a few. Because the fallen Angels words was sweeter honey. If not us then whom indeed? The line was no longer broken but streaming along the pavement, she tries to stare at it forever. Escaping.
But truth always comes and knocks her off her feet. If not together, than how can they both avoid defeat? Whats the point when they have already lost? Stabbed in the back with a knife called lust. Et tu, Bruté? She pondered that as the white lines started to disappear and reappear in front of her eyes again.
If not us, who? I was offer to go dancing with sweet Lucifer and his lover Brutus. Hearing the words of many but she only listen to a few. Because the fallen Angels words was sweeter honey. If not us then whom indeed? The line was no longer broken but streaming along the pavement, she tries to stare at it forever. Escaping.
But truth always comes and knocks her off her feet. If not together, than how can they both avoid defeat? Whats the point when they have already lost? Stabbed in the back with a knife called lust. Et tu, Bruté? She pondered that as the white lines started to disappear and reappear in front of her eyes again.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Wet dream
She dreamed last night that it rained today. Down it poured, like her heart down the drain. Her lips she kissed in her fantasy. She miss her sinful voice. Whispers of bitter promises, that she used to want to drown herself in. Dear father, how ironic. But now she is tired. So very tired of dreaming and waking up teary eyed.
3 days of haze
Light fingers weep into her skin as she sleep. The world stopped its revolution and stood at a standstill. She woke and it was 3 days into the future, the unconscience rebel. When did she fall asleep again? Its hard to tell.
No regrets and she feels better for the time being. Smiling no longer takes up too much effort. Enjoying the moments when she is not sleeping. Body so heavy falling in to the mattresses. Secure arms wrapped and graze her back. Soothing and luring her to rest more. But wasnt she just awake?
Hush, just close your eyes.
Did she really want to? Its hard to tell once again. What time was it? The night feels like morning and the afternoons feel like in between. Deny the war, it too shall pass.
3 days of dejvu.
No regrets and she feels better for the time being. Smiling no longer takes up too much effort. Enjoying the moments when she is not sleeping. Body so heavy falling in to the mattresses. Secure arms wrapped and graze her back. Soothing and luring her to rest more. But wasnt she just awake?
Hush, just close your eyes.
Did she really want to? Its hard to tell once again. What time was it? The night feels like morning and the afternoons feel like in between. Deny the war, it too shall pass.
3 days of dejvu.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
A Dandelion for My Mother
How I loved those spiky suns,
rooted stubborn as childhood
in the grass, tough as the farmer’s
big-headed children—the mats
of yellow hair, the bowl-cut fringe.
How sturdy they were and how
slowly they turned themselves
into galaxies, domes of ghost stars
barely visible by day, pale
cerebrums clinging to life
on tough green stems. Like you.
Like you, in the end. If you were here,
I’d pluck this trembling globe to show
how beautiful a thing can be
a breath will tear away.
Jean Nordhaus
rooted stubborn as childhood
in the grass, tough as the farmer’s
big-headed children—the mats
of yellow hair, the bowl-cut fringe.
How sturdy they were and how
slowly they turned themselves
into galaxies, domes of ghost stars
barely visible by day, pale
cerebrums clinging to life
on tough green stems. Like you.
Like you, in the end. If you were here,
I’d pluck this trembling globe to show
how beautiful a thing can be
a breath will tear away.
Jean Nordhaus
Falling up
Pessoa the expressionist.
Past moments.
My younger self in love with life, flash in the back of my lids. We long for things that used to make our lives meaningful.
Is she in a constant state of optimism? No she is a Taurean and a pessimistic by nature.
She lay down holes to let others fall through in
and pray someone gets out alive.
what am i doing here again?
Past moments.
My younger self in love with life, flash in the back of my lids. We long for things that used to make our lives meaningful.
Is she in a constant state of optimism? No she is a Taurean and a pessimistic by nature.
She lay down holes to let others fall through in
and pray someone gets out alive.
what am i doing here again?
Monday, March 8, 2010
by your side
It isnt all about your apitite. Dont speak I cant hear you with my ears still hungry for more silence. I will give you big smiles and always be by your side, while wearing invisible black eyes and bruised housewife thighs.
Cocorosie
Swiming stillborns girls and fem love story blues.
Cocorosie
Swiming stillborns girls and fem love story blues.
10:19 a.m
The fever in her chest peaked to dangerous levels last night. Between the mold of her breast. Pain clenches and release with each breath. She is no long curious because if it. That spark has been promptly put out and the smoke is just drawing lazy circles in her head.
So tired of being the fighter and not the lover she is made to be. Rest. Stop. and Fuck it. Irritated, no cigarettes to calm her down. Every breath that brings the delusion of happiness closer now hangs off her arm. She knows they are just scars but she can still feel them.
Its hard for people to understand her, and its even harder for her to get others to comprehend so she says rest. stop. and fuck it. fuck it. fuck it. fuck it.
So tired of being the fighter and not the lover she is made to be. Rest. Stop. and Fuck it. Irritated, no cigarettes to calm her down. Every breath that brings the delusion of happiness closer now hangs off her arm. She knows they are just scars but she can still feel them.
Its hard for people to understand her, and its even harder for her to get others to comprehend so she says rest. stop. and fuck it. fuck it. fuck it. fuck it.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Hell fire
She is still so angry and wants to light some shit on fire. No words are exchanged, yet she hears her voice everyday. Mocking, taunting, laughing...Holding her power
Today, ripped another page out and got a paper cut from the wire.
FUCK!
It felt like someone was pourin gasoline on her temper to set the world on fire. So raw was the smell deep inside her skin it stunk. Painting a violent picture of change as she tried to kill the need for...
If only she didnt knew how she brought this upon herself, would the burning not hurt as much. Its not the first time she felt the pain and it surely isnt the last it turned her into a flirt.
Today, ripped another page out and got a paper cut from the wire.
FUCK!
It felt like someone was pourin gasoline on her temper to set the world on fire. So raw was the smell deep inside her skin it stunk. Painting a violent picture of change as she tried to kill the need for...
If only she didnt knew how she brought this upon herself, would the burning not hurt as much. Its not the first time she felt the pain and it surely isnt the last it turned her into a flirt.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Unrecognizable
Winter doesn't know me anymore. I think I have been here for far too long and she no longer remembers her face. Flash of warmth calls my name it pricks my frustrations with little poke.
I wanted to taste it all. To feel how something besides restlessness go down her throat for once. Have I already lost my mind in the clouds? Tomorrow will come today and then we will see, if I come back down.
I wanted to taste it all. To feel how something besides restlessness go down her throat for once. Have I already lost my mind in the clouds? Tomorrow will come today and then we will see, if I come back down.
Theory of the Broken
Saving her screams at the bottom of the drawer, And her voice choked. she dont know if...she'll be alright
Dont you turn your eyes from me!
Lies eat the inside of her throat, as she walks out the door. Trying to find a place to rest. Mind so complex with words pounding against her head. Hand cramps and smoke made of wings to carry her away. This is not enough! She needs to get away.
Open you eyes! Can you see me now?
Is it still okay be herself?!! She just cant forget the blood the stitches, the bite marks, the kisses. She just wanted go away Go away GO! away GO! GO AWAY!
Dont you turn your eyes from me!
Lies eat the inside of her throat, as she walks out the door. Trying to find a place to rest. Mind so complex with words pounding against her head. Hand cramps and smoke made of wings to carry her away. This is not enough! She needs to get away.
Open you eyes! Can you see me now?
Is it still okay be herself?!! She just cant forget the blood the stitches, the bite marks, the kisses. She just wanted go away Go away GO! away GO! GO AWAY!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Amaze Frail and Sacred
The stairwell to the stars was missing steps and frail cracks of twilight luminated the darkening night. But I still tried to find a way through the darkness. With eyes wide in frightening amaze I watched as my star shattered into a million pieces. Ive cried long and hard crystal dusts in my halted sacred plight.
Dancing lies
The fragile cup was ready to break in her hands. But she couldnt stop drinking, too far gone to taste the alcohol anymore, so she didnt notice her hands were bleeding still. This was not part of the plans...far from it.
Couldnt deny the tempting lure of a chille night though. With no regrets and night sweats if only a while. Trying so hard to forget.
Feeling fine. She grabs the bottle and likes the way it feels on her lips. So fine. She knows. As the sway of hips against hips, she convinces herself not to acknowledge the lies.
Today was not a good day.
Couldnt deny the tempting lure of a chille night though. With no regrets and night sweats if only a while. Trying so hard to forget.
Feeling fine. She grabs the bottle and likes the way it feels on her lips. So fine. She knows. As the sway of hips against hips, she convinces herself not to acknowledge the lies.
Today was not a good day.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The bull and the sand crawler
Today she ran into an old lust. Smiling when she came and lightly touched her sides and stood beside her as she waited in line. Her skin didnt become warm nor was she at a lost of words looking in her eyes.
Oh but She did smile at the moments they had together and she did quiver when a flash of their adventures under the sheet passed over her eyes. A short teenage affair. Very sexual. She was a Scorpio, just like mother.
Always been attracted to good sex. But watching her walk away without saying goodbye she knew without a doubt that Scorpio would never be able to stand next to this Taurus, without getting crushed and this Taurus standing next to that Scorpio without getting stung.
Oh but She did smile at the moments they had together and she did quiver when a flash of their adventures under the sheet passed over her eyes. A short teenage affair. Very sexual. She was a Scorpio, just like mother.
Always been attracted to good sex. But watching her walk away without saying goodbye she knew without a doubt that Scorpio would never be able to stand next to this Taurus, without getting crushed and this Taurus standing next to that Scorpio without getting stung.
March 2nd
The snow is melting and there is not a cloud to be seen in the sky. At this moment, she is in the mist of another change. People go through a period of change every 7 years, and she is at the peak of her transformation.
Everything is slowing down. Adventures that once defined her life no longer seemed appealing. No longer is she in a hurry. She is looking forward to the outcome. What skin will she be wearing, what color eyes will she be looking out of, and what would her voice sound like?
Today is a good day. She hopes it last for a while.
Everything is slowing down. Adventures that once defined her life no longer seemed appealing. No longer is she in a hurry. She is looking forward to the outcome. What skin will she be wearing, what color eyes will she be looking out of, and what would her voice sound like?
Today is a good day. She hopes it last for a while.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Pied Piper
The rodents running around, nipping at their feet were getting quite annoying. Beady flashing red eyes. A glint of sickening mockery saying 'Hey Im just a rat, whats your excuse?'
If only she had a metal bat.
If only she had a metal bat.