thought daughter

i’m a thought daughter, 
i think too much 
about mundane things 
that no one else even 
bats an eye to. 

i can’t open my mouth 
without my teeth falling out, 
or my tongue becoming 
the texture of sandpaper. 

i’m a thought daughter, 
i repeat mantras to myself 
in the mirror 
before i walk out 
into the deep blue. 

i use a wrench to pull
my brain out of my ear 
and throw it onto the ground, 
stomping on it until it 
becomes the texture of 
chewing gum. 

i’m a thought daughter, 
all i do is think and 
think and think and 
think some more.