Some friendships never bloom

They remain seeds

A victim of time

and space

Buried beneath the earth

They itch

and ferment

The soil



without the need

of a flashy flower

yet lush all the same

I return

to that plot

from time

to time

to take in moments

and feel

soft grass

beneath my feet



White Knight

I saw you

A man in all white

riding a steed

of steel and smoke

You lifted your visor

Blue eyes pierced mine

Like a shot of whiskey


The back of my throat

filling my chest

warm and wet

The first fresh feeling

in years

The hope of the new and unknown

As you lift your pistol

To kiss my temple

My body

Crumples to the pavement



Without worry

You thought I was a Lady

You thought I was a lady,

But I’ve been outed

Once again

Anger, in all her crimson and orange

and almost dainty, yellow flames

Has burned her down

to ash and smoke

the waste of unwanted passion

and uncontrollable desire.

It’s not ladylike to hate

and I hate

a lot,

and without enough shame

To ever truly be a lady

I curse, and sailors cringe

I have no patience

for hurt feelings

and pettiness,

prettied up

as politics

I don’t really give a damn

If you think I’m not a lady

Apparently, the most

unladylike thing I can do

Maybe even worse

Than sleeping around

or drinking too much

or raising my voice

Oh christ, my voice

It’s loud.

I’ve never mastered

that delicate way of


or phrasing

the unpleasant

Or controlling any excitement

or emotion

That travels through my brain,

I’ve never learned it.

It’s like watching a fish try to walk.

But I like to wear lipstick

and pretty dresses.

I love to look feminine

And maybe that confuses you?

I’m not saying I’m not like other girls

(there’s thousands, millions, just like me)

But here you are

staring at me,

like Aphrodite

turned into Medusa

Before your very eyes

Let’s face it,

Aphrodite was not that nice,

and one bad day away,

from snakes sprouting on her scalp.

You say I’m contradictory

I think I’m all encompassing.

To be fair, I could tone it down a bit

With the right counselors

or therapists,

to strip away and rebuild,

all those rotten roots

But fuck it.

If I’m being honest,

I like my rotten roots,

and I never lied to you,

or promised you a lady.




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