I am a punk
Because I f*** stereotypes in my aunt's bathroom
When I chop off my long curls with rusted scissors
And pray to myself instead of some vague idea
Of Salvation
Because I am the only thing I know
And I am my only hero.
I collect teapots and black eyeliner and leather skirts
And long pink stockings with frillies at the top
And I fight for what I think is true and
Never bury my head in the snow even
Though I know the cold makes me feel alive.
I cry when I am happy and I cry when I am mad
And I'll never live up to the name of my dad
But I will always tear off my layers when
I am home in my bed.
I make art even though I hate it
And I dress like a hipster but I fake it
I fake the way I act to my family
Or the people who think they know me
Because I will never fit in
And I could care more about a pen.
I used to talk seldomly
Before I realized it was blasphemy
To hide yourself when you are free
I wish I was free
I wish I was free
I wish I was free.