The self pity poem (wood chip potions)

I am choking to death on freshly cut grass
And the Quaker song "Simple Gifts."

I lie face down on the freshly mowed lawn
And the dogs give me a polite sniff.

I am getting asthma from the gymnasium air
And the smell of rubber tennis shoes.

I am dying of grief for the girl I once was
That girl who I managed to lose.

I am having an aneurysm when I think of time gone
Of the friends and the "friends" and the end
And all of those times that I was not queen, but a disposable pawn.

I am remembering the spinning blue thing at the playground
And how it made my brain twirl
And as I am laid to rest 
Where once I had recess
Overhead, the fall leaves begin to swirl.