Stop Touching Me!

Something I wrote a few years ago.

Stop Touching Me!

That's my nose, that's my hair
I don't have any hugs, I don't care.
No I don't need a kiss or a tickle.
I'm not upset, I didn't eat a pickle.
Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Touching!  Me!

I'm not getting dressed, I won't go to school.
My dresses are ugly, the make me look a fool,
Mt hair's not right, Not a curl in sight
It's strait strangly, and snarly--it hurts if not brushed right.
Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Touching!  Me!

No, no!  That's enough of that; don't make me laugh.
I know what you're doing, I'm not daft.
I won't feel; good; I don't want to feel better.
I tell you now it won't work,  You'll no get her...or me.
Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Touching!  Me!

You see, I can feel sad if I want to,
You can't get through my wall, I'm mad if I want to.
I just want to feel lousy today,
And nothing you do can change that way.
Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Touching!  Me!

No that isn't an interesting thought.
I don't care if there's a party, or if you bought
me a hundred dresses, a thousabd maybe.
And that hair boe is nice, maybe.
Stop!  Stop!  Stop!  Touching!  Me!

I know your plan, I see your scheme.
Try to take my mind off my desire to scream.
Well maybe I do like creamed egg on toast.
Maybe I do love you mom, you're the most.
Now!  Now!  Now! You Can!  Touch Me!