Marry me! (I'll be your housewife)

and maybe I should be despised
I know telling is too much
so maybe i'm not listening
about me, watching, they touch me
people won't talk to me
music doesn't speak to me
I get up, I walk around

and really, I should be calm
it's all so very tidy
there should be room to breathe now
cleaning, arranging, dusting
I've been making such good sweeps
breathing as from running a hundred stairs
I sit down, still restless