ice cream headaches and candy compromise
with whipped cream guilt for no extra cost.
sitting on the edge of an empty promise
where everyone seems to smile.
we try so hard to look at the walls,
but nothing matters much in the dark.
i hope i can get my money back,
in case i am not satisfied.
scratching benches and throwing fits,
as the small voice grows louder.
i want my mother to buy me another one.
but she won't spoil me anymore.
sacrificed my soul for a cone of chocolate ice cream,
and now all i have to show for it is gone.
i hope the world can forgive me for saying so,
but i really do love it when the headaches go away.
i'm too touchy to truly enjoy the ice cream,
so i'll just sit here and pretend that one is ok.
next time, i'll get my father to take me.
he still spoils me so.
if only the ice cream wasn't used
to get me to forgive him for it.
easily bribed and pathetically forgiven.
i'm so tired of playing alone.
one day, i'll make it to the edge,
and i'll look over and i'll see it all.
and i'll laugh at myself for being so foolish,
and for being so scared.
after all, i know and everybody knows,
it's only ice cream.
