i opened a bank account // when i was nine years old
i closed it when i was eighteen //
i gave them every penny that i'd saved //
and they gave my blood // and my urine //
a number // now i'm sitting in this waiting room //
playing with the toys // and i am here to exercise//
my freedom of choice // i passed their handheld signs //
went through their picket lines //
they gathered when they saw me coming //
they shouted when they saw me cross //
i said why don't you go home //
just leave me alone // i'm just another woman lost //
you are like fish in the water //
who don't know that they are wet //
as far as i can tell // the world isn't perfect yet
his bored eyes were obscene //
on his denim thighs a magazine//
i wish he'd never come here with me //
in fact i wish he'd never come near me //
i wish his shoulder // wasn't touching mine //
i am growing older // waiting in this line //
some of life's best lessons // are learned at the worst times //
under the fierce fluorescent //
she offered her hand for me to hold //
she offered stability and calm //
and i was crushing her palm //
through the pinch pull wincing //
my smile unconvincing //
on that sterile battlefield that sees //
only casualties // never heroes //
my heart hit absolute zero //
lucille, your voice still sounds in me //
mine was a relatively easy tragedy //
now the profile of our country //
looks a little less hard nosed //
but that picket line persisted //
and that clinic's since been closed //
they keep pounding their fists on reality //
hoping it will break //
but i don't think there's a one of them //
leads a life free of mistakes //