Don't You Get It? by Lady Dalia

"Don't you get it?"

Maelstrom of courtyard chatter makes me dizzy and unreal. What do you want from me?  I hear you speak but you utter nothing with substance; no form attached to the endless ramblings.  I feel as if you try to soothe me, like a cat, whispering gently in my ear.  Stop, stroking.  It isn't welcome.  I will not be managed by you.

"Oh Miss Dalia, you are so.... " What?  What will you tell me about myself that I do not know?  And still you have the audacity to prod and poke.  Wake up!  Telling me something about you.  Where have you been, where are you going and why haven't you got there yet?  Lay it on the line for me.  Tell me you defeats; show me your humanity.  The best of us are but small at times.

There is nothing you can think, strategize or anticipate that I want.  You will never succeed because your head is in the wrong space.  It's not about you finding the perfect formula.  It's about remembering one small little phrase, "What would you like Ma'am?" and casting it adrift.  In the silence you wait; this dance eternal.  I lead, you follow.