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These are the thoughts that go through my head
in my backyard on a sunday afternoon
when I have the house to myself and I am not
spending all that energy on fighting
with my

Is he the one that I will marry
and why is it so hard to be eager to myself
and why do I feel cellularly alone
am I supposed to live in this crazy city
you mean
I'm not

Where does the money go that I send
to charities if we have so much why do some people have
nothing still I do, I feel frantic when I
first wake up in the morning
why do you say you are spiritual
yet you treat people like shit

How can you say you're close to God
and yet you talk behind
my back as though I'm not
a part of you, why do
you say "you're fine" when it's
obvious you are not
why's it so hard to tell you what I want
why can't you just read my mind?

Why do I fear that the quieter I am
the less people will listen
why do I care whether you like me or not
why's it so hard for me to be angry
why is it so hard to become
push on and then so easy to get stuck
and not the other way around

Will I ever move back to Canada again
I'd be with a lover with whom I am a student
and don't ask why am I encouraged to shut my mouth
when it gets too close to home, why cannot I
in the

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