O, force me to swallow, rather than scrape a wooden spoon on my teeth,

One thousand tacks one by one and slowly;

Or make me fall forever into a dark pit,

Where light shall never hit or touch me again;

Or prick my fingers with thorns; tie string to each of my teeth and door;

Put me in a desert, chained to a old root of a tree,

Where my lips will split by the sun,

Or pull each strand of my hair one by one,

Force my hold on a burning curling iron forever;

Throw meat in the middle of the ocean,

Leaving me right off to the side with nothing but the clothes on my back;

Or tie me to the front of a testing car,

Shoot me with a paint ball gun again and again without padding;

Put me in a cage with a hungry lion; force me to eat slugs and bruised bananas;

Or make me listen to same pop song again and again;

Drag me behind a scooter in San Francisco;

Make me wear only pink everyday for the rest of my life,

Or listen to a valley girl talk;

Give me four times more homework than I have,

Or say I can’t read for a day;

All things more dreadful and ill feeling,

These I will do without fear nor doubt,

To never have that chill run up my spine while scraping a wooden spoon on my teeth.