Legs. You deceive me.
I told you dear legs,
do not falter.
Yet hear we are, shaking.

Heart. Calm down, please.
It's fine, my brain has sufficient
amounts of oxygen.

Stomach. There is nothing
to throw up. Stop trying
to make it happen.

Arms. You aren't even
involved in this.

Head. It is your job to
keep everything together.
You got this.

When you tell me I have thunder thighs,
your intention is to offend.
However, I take this high compliment, and I thank you.

Thunder is the most powerful source in the world.
It can bring even the strongest man to his knees, weeping.
When you tell me I have thunder in my thighs, I thank you.

Thunder roars and those in its presence fall dead, silent, powerless.
You are essentially telling me that my thighs have enough
power to absorb any and all power, and for this I thank you.

You must think this is an insult because you're scared of thunder,
scared of power. Of my power. I feed off your fear and
my energy increases, and as it does so, I thank you.

I harness the thunder in my thighs and use it
to scream when my voice isn't loud enough.
For the dramatic decibel increase, I thank you.

I have more thunder in my thighs alone than
you have coursing throughout your whole being.
So, go on, call me thunder thighs, I'll only thank you.

Her name is Katie.
But you'd never be able to tell by looking at her.
Her hair has the electricity of lightning,
and power gushes from her eyes.

She is wild, untamed.
But you'd never know that from her name.
The name Katie suggests that she does as she is told.
Suggests that she is a cookie cutter cutout,
sugar snap princess.

But Katie is a rebel.
She will take your heart and she will rip it out.
No shame, no mercy.
You'd never find out until it's too late.

I wrote a poem today but I left the paper in the back pocket of
my jeans and it went through the wash.

you (singular) ask me if i am mad at you (singular).
the answer is no;
i am not mad at you (singular).

i am mad at you (plural).
she is a punk rock goddess;
you (singular) are a soft and fragile mermaid.

you (singular) do not belong with her.
you (plural) make a tragic pair;
like diet coke and rubbing alcohol.

maybe i should let it go.
you (plural) are out of my hands;
i shouldn't have to bother myself with you (plural).

so please do not ask again if i am mad at you (singular).
you (singular) know the answer;
yes, i am mad at you (plural).

you have not ever known love.
she is not love, you do not love her.
she does not love you.

you only think you feel better.
she is only a sugar pill.
you are the same for her.

you are the puzzle pieces that don't fit.
still we try in vain to make them fit
where we want them to be.

she does not love you.
you do not love her, she is not love.
you have not ever known love.

Do not call yourself poet,
you have not earned the title.
Your pathetic mind produces phrases,
unworthy to be called poetry.

Do not tell me you were meant to be.
You are not a poem,
she is not a poem.
Together you do not make poetry,
you are two lines that do not flow.

Do not tell me I am jealous,
you owe your love to my courage.
If it weren't for me, you would still be
at a loss for words.