A tale I wrote
You need to find a butcher you can trust,
a face on a head that looks
like it knows what it's doing,
legs that do what they're designed to do.
You need to find a moon
that watches and learns
and never tells you how small you are.
There will be streets you don't want to walk down
and skies keen to swallow the space
between the ears you were given.
You're allowed to worry,
why else would we feel like that?