and you’re downfor the countyou are dancing with mengoing around and aroundand you’re scaredand you’re surethat your spine will dissolveyou will fall to the flooryou will takewhat you needand the headaches will comebut at least you can breathethere’s the smokefills your lungswe will wait for the daywe’ll rejoice when it comeson your birthdayyou woke upthe snow was on the groundyou opened books and peeked insidethey kissed you on your crownwith pins in your fingersyou held yourself up highthe picture peeled the personthey let themselves divideyou arriveat the placeit is not what you wantbut it is what you chaseso you don’thave to holdall of the candlesthat burn on their ownyou will stealall the smellsthat cut through your nose and inside on your cellswhen it’s timeto escapeyou realize you’ve waited until it’s too latebut your birthdayinflatedthe bones with which you creakthey stole your shoes and then brought you tothe caverns of their teethyou pleadedoh kind sirplease let me say goodbyeyour soul ripped from your stomachyou gave an awful crya cryand when I have diedwill you use my spineto swing from tree to tree in search ofplaces pleasing to the eye?I saidI’m sorry dearbut you don’t listenno you don’t listenyou silly little girl