Today My Consequence Is

Butterflies in my stomach

Butterflies on my toes

Loss of appetite

And distraction with no end.

Welcome Home

There's something lame about being pretty

There's something tame about the wild city

There's mischief to be done when we turn out the lights

You can't halt the screams in the darkest of nights

But they can never be a forest fire, cloaking the sun red

They can never be unstoppable, the sun will rise yellow

And something about this city business suddenly seems so mellow

When I rise in the morning to brush my teeth.