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My wallet is filled with gift cards
That only have fifty cents left
yet too valuable to throw away
Punch cards disregarded
Receipts lay bottomless as
my youth became so guarded

My lungs are filled with chlorine 

My dreams are tarnished like the knives in my auburn-stained kitchen.
Chipped paneling and cracked marble once paved the way for my future.
Moths are drawn to the flame of vulnerability and crickets chirp to the sound of a beating heart.

My heart is lost in the city
Looking for someplace to hide
Halting at stop signs and falling on pavement
Too young to know the reason why

Give me a helping hand or throw me a landline

When layers of thoughts are broken like glass, our words can stay shattered.
People do not come with instruction manuals or warning labels.
Piecing back broken memories is like trying to stop a tornado from moving a feather.

Long legs eating tissues
Available since they know she will cry
Full of deceitful friends and still starving
How many carbs to kill a career?

It's only twenty-one, as old as when she started

Thank god I wasn’t born
In 1934
To set the dining room table 
serving mister corporate job

I would be 81
When they finally announced the news
Would have already be trapped in 
Been a housewife has-been