I’ve been a city girl since birth.

I could never farm or hunt or herd,

I probably couldn’t even surf.

In every way, I was raised in the city.

My brain was practically one itself.

Look to my city, the one in my mind,

look at the chaos that unfolds,

as I get trapped in a warped time.

There’s way too much thoughts,

jumbled as smog in the sky.

Overthinking is only one problem,

in the city that lives in my mind.

It’s made of broken columns,

that shake and wobble just fine.

They worry and worry me senseless,

but that’s just how my city is.

My city is in my mind, always has been.

I’ve always been the one in charge.

But something I figured out, by age of 10?

Years and years ago, I saw fire so large,

and I looked at it; only I could have caused it.

My city is in my mind, and it’s on fire.

It burns with thoughts and emotions,

but none of it, none of it, I can decipher.

I’m supposed to be in charge,

but I’m looking at the blazes of heat,

they roar and reach so high and large,

I know my city will only find defeat.

I don’t move though, I only watch.

I see words written in the smoke,

but I don’t move. I only read.

I’m so close to the fire, I choke,

but maybe it’s the story in the smoke

and not what I breathe.

I’m a coward and other choice words,

I sent my city to ruins and ashes.

I watched as everyone, everyone

looked at me as if I were absurd,

absurd for freezing like a sculpture.

My city is burning, it’s on fire.

I’ve been a city girl since birth,

I even lived in one not on earth,

but I wasn’t quite the best in charge,

because once I saw a fire so large,

I froze and stared, stared at my city,

my city in flames, my city on fire,

burning alive the one and only liar.

I’ve never been much of a crier,

but my city’s on fire, it’s in flames.

And I’m the only one to blame.