Tuesday Blues Poem by Madison Massarello

Is my individuality showing?

I apologize for my skinned knees, for my lonely lungs and for the indecent walls that encase my skull.

Madness slips from my mouth and jumps off the roof of my mothers decaying furnace.

I don't fit in the holy production line.
And it's MY fault.

I wear myself with creamy velvet.
My legs search for progressive justice.
O! but no avail.

My teeth caress the weight of my tongue as it gracefully bites at the lush smog of enticing conformity.

Are you content?