I comb my hair,
I brush my teeth,
I braid my mind into a knot.
I brush my hair,
I braid my teeth,
I comb my mind so it gets straight.
I braid my hair,
I comb my teeth,
I brush my mind until it shines.
You would have broken my heart,
so I held it hard.
So you broke my mind instead.
I’m counting the corners,
I’m counting the stars/scars,
and I am waiting for you to call me,
my dear,
to call me,
my dear,
to call me,
my dear,
to call me “my dear”.
And I am not your slave,
and I am not yours to command,
and I am not yours to keep,
yet I am yours anyhow …