Invisible Blues

Somebody's always shoving a blue ribbon 
in my face

Telling me how lucky I am to be a woman
 
When really my teeth hurt from swallowing my words

I have no shoulder to store my hurt

and the fine layer of dust on all the furniture is bothering me 

But I can't be bothered to get on my feet

And how the granadillas have ripened nicely

So there are always more leaves to sweep

Day by day, rinse and repeat 

I only ever feel complete, at ease 

when I tote my third cup of coffee without

 spilling a drop

I always know the best places to look 
when something is lost

Doesn't that say a lot