The bough before snow.

I am a selfish shellfish.

I never wear ribbons in my hair.

I am the box you would give away if only you knew it was empty.

The letterhead reads in red and the marching band has gone softer.

Tell me you agree, desperate for you to remember me, damned if I didn’t try to be honest.

I am the caramel that burns at the edge and stinks.

The Mexican flags brandished from the balcony and I am listening again.

I need to find a happy medium, some show stopping circus queen bejeweled in rainbows and claws hovering o’er her crystal ball.

Fearless I have no need for God.

The white rabbit leads me home.

Black cats jump like shadows in the parlor.

She’s been dead for years the old gatekeeper said take her jewelry and mind the bed.

I am always in bed.

Her pearl ring has decayed on my finger, nothing lasts.

Save me from my bullshit but not my sins.

Fuck everything I’ve tried, I am born inside.

The scalpel was sharp.

My mother cried.

And when I was pulled from the birth canal my skull was dented.

I had been lodged in the pelvis; apparently I didn’t want to leave.

I cleave to commiserate with all that satiates my intelligence in spent nightmares of greying elephants walking to the grave.

We remember our nuts, the bag has been left on the stool by the circus trainer who is trimming his beard in the mirror, whip in hand, shaving cans and combs.

The crowds have come to watch us, I take them one at a time and my sexuality is always on my mind. 

Which do I choose the ladies or the swine?

Wasn’t I supposed to be born this way?

Predestined for salivating menstrual cycles and I am barren.

The medication I’m on is better than birth control, and my doctors don’t want me to reproduce with my madness.

“She can’t be trusted; she’ll harm herself or others.”

Fuck you, I need the freedom promised me by the founding fathers.

This mother fucking police state is beyond nausea, beyond anger; I suffocate and dowse myself in apathy.

Numb.

I need to weep for my world, but the tears are too precious to waste on the ignorance of men. 

The blind are leading the blind pretending to see the light.

“I have seen the light, I have known God, and your no Christian” I tell myself.

Accusatory like.

Lip service for the minister to congratulate on my accomplishments. 

I bow low.

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