Get Over It?

I want to open myself up to the eons of things I feel scrambling for attention behind my brow line
But I am suppressed
Oppressed
Condemned
By society
By motherhood
By maternity
By wife-dom
By rules
By hierarchies
By loves that have to stay under the table and shoved up under blankets like they don't exist until they do and even then you'd better keep the lid on tight
Because when you open that lid
The whole universe will come rolling out like thunder, like ripples in puddles from giant galoshes
And you can't draw with chalk on everything
Because you are so tired that getting up at two in the morning for some guerilla art feels impossible
And you can't write the poetry you'd like to write because as soon as the writing bug bites you your eight year old climbs in bed beside you and wants to talk about how farts are really just stinky air and you shouldn't be offended by them.