Maybe when I’m older, I’ll be clearer,
more attuned and understanding.
Well, I’m ready.
I wrote a list of my demands and then I burned an older version.
So to start with, I’ll start over.
I’ll cut my hair and cut the power.
So who am I without weapons? Without defense to arm my guards against intruders?
Well this is my house, so fuck your doubts and your cute battalion,
‘cause I’m steady,
and when my double scales the wall, I’ll know exactly where he’s landing and I’ll surprise him.
Then when he’s captured, with his hands bound,
I beg for answers to all my questions, like,
“What happened?
Why’d you let me let you in when I was younger?
And why’d I need to?”
