A girl in *******
Agony and rapture found
Through latex and blood

i’m that girl

the girl who looks   good

U
N
D
E
R
the dark
     Under the guise of too many shots
That girl
            who will make you come in her mouth But never come over
That girl
            you can **** but can’t Call
That girl
            the one who will ******* like your ****** is the center of her universe, the sum of her self worth, the essence of her being
but can’t hold hands with in
                                       public I’m
                                                    that girl

But I’m also THAT girl.

The girl who believes in a revolution of thought in body that girl who will

NEVER
let you define her worth, her ****’ worth, or her ******’s worth.

THAT girl who will spit flames or warrior women in your mouth at any suggestion
that women are the ‘weaker ***’

THAT girl who will always answer

                                            catcalls with

                                          a

                                             * ROAR

THAT girl.

I’m a feminist with a chipped shoulder, a chip that has been worked at and worked at by boys
               like

                      you*

boys made of salt and misogyny

boys who “are apologies that should have been made to women long ago”

boys that have made me what I am.

& maybe that’s why you thought I wasn’t good enough—

because I am THAT girl.

buried behind a wall of complacency
my contentment boils -- steams like pots of cleansing tea-- in the constant cold
pass the peace pipe over the bones of my enemies.
my rebellion is rooted
deep within my veins
                                       {burried under tact and sweet smiles}  but ready to return

the blood of warrior women waiting to return

runs within me- my abilities are their evolution

from the color of my eyes to my tolerance for pain-- rooted

into my skullspinesoul

in a field of dinosaur bones-

only the strong survive the cold

this ever present frost
follows me like the windigo; its return

deep in the decemberjanuaryfebuary ache of my bones
a disease malignant in the
deep r
              u
n
n  
     i
        n
            g
tap-roots of elms-  etched
into
time like
               skeletons in the ice
tested {thawing} with every return
of this ******* season, evolving
from the lifeless bones
of trees to the wings of birds

brittle, but strong;
bundled with love(hate) protecting me from the cold

letting go, but wanting them to
fall back like
cigarette ashes in the wind

this is no place or time in my life for slow acceptance but
I find safety in the muscle bound bones
aware, lying (insomniac), waiting for someone to breathe
life into the marrow.

my love- deep, engrained, rooted
the pulse of human heat keeping me from the cold
will I ever change?

bundled against the cold, the cracking of my bones
is like the creaking of the dead trees i stare up at
with their songs of change
and the end of fears never to thaw out again

we tint our lips the bleeding red of broken hearts
rouge our cheeks &
scar ourselves with the burnt-black ashes of animal bones
we paint each-others faces with the war-paint of our generation--
adorn our hair with feathers
our hearts with chain metal
and our girlish dreams and expectations with
armor and the arms of one another
because when we wake
the war drums of this night {and our hearts} will be silenced
like the quiet of a strangers house
when the ashes of brilliant fireworks
have settled on tiled roofs
the moans of our prey will be still--
we will wake and creep from their sides
and find each-other  in the sleeping battle field
strewn with our enemies
& walk
hand in hand away from the soulless slumbering masses
your lips drip blood of broken promises from the undeserving, of hearts devoured
and mine are singed and cut from the flames a hundred sips of firewater, heated words shouted and glasses thrown
we will wake and walk away
and be pretty girls in sundresses again

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

to define love.
You'll be baffled
bewildered & broken by the end.

The cynical ones
will laugh,
say it's dead,
overused and cliche.
Why try write what Whitman, Dickinson, Frost & Shakespeare
have already covered?

The romantic ones
will wax on for hours
describing inner & outer beauty
compared to anything that strikes their eye.
Why can't you see it's everywhere?

The hip ones
will scare you,
take a ****
& describe some detailed carnal fantasy
involving tapioca & a talking *****
named Pony.

Ask a lawyer,
they could tell you the legal definition.

Ask your parents,
they will tell you something trite about seeing it through.

Ask little kids
for an adorably wise response.

Ask a dog
as it's ******* your leg.

Ask a scientist,
they will describe the chemical reactions in the brain.

Ask a prisoner,
they will tell you it's something they miss.

But never ask a poet
to define love.
Your brain will hurt,
half your day gone
& you'll be left heart broken
by the end.

The first thing I felt was the dryness of my overly-chapped lips. My back ached. I hadn’t slept on a real bed in days. Leroy had left my side since I last woke. I needed to eat. The pain from the hunger was becoming unbearable. Three days without food. Seventeen house since my last drink of water. Your watch is your best chance of survival.
“Maybe I’ll find a river today.” I sighed in hope
“It’ll probably be filled with sewage and dead fish like the last two.”
I had to keep reminding myself that this world is worse than it once was.
I’ve been torturing myself with the thoughts of suicide lately. Slitting Leroy’s throat so he isn’t left to fend for himself. I was Caught off guard by something grazing my leg. My shoulders relaxed when I saw it was only Leroy.  The wet blood on his jowls suggests to me that he managed to hunt down a squirrel.
“You didn’t save any for me? *******.” I chuckled. I wish he could understand me. Something about the way he panted made it look like he was smiling at me. Maybe he could hear me.
I rubbed his neck, taking the time to admire all his individual fibers. I’ve always adored his calico coloring.
I got up. The sun was beating on my forehead. I needed a hat out hear. My watch read “December 18th, 2500. Oxygen content warning: LOW”
I remembered growing up with my mother saying how it snowed once when she was really little. She said it was only a few hundred years ago when this entire area of Canada was covered in snow. at least 20 feet of snow a year.
I never bought into her stories, though.
The sun is so hot. Mother talked about how there used to be people with pinkish skin. Pale even. That’s ridiculous. There’s a reason why everyone is dark. The sun bakes everyone.
I felt my stomach rumble. I need food.
My watch started beeping angrily, which is never a good thing. “OXYGEN DANGEROUSLY LOW” read on the screen
I shouted “Run Leroy!”
We started running, obviously Leroy easily pulling away, my feet pounding the pavement with every last breathe I had. The hard part is deciding where to run. You never know where the oxygen is. You could be running to more nitrogen and carbon. You could be running to your death.
In-fact, I think I was.
I was getting dizzy.
I couldn’t stay focused on running. I just wanted to lay down.
My foot landed on a large crack, and my foot rolled. I could feel my ankle snap.
In a daze, I managed to look down. The boon protruding from my skin.
I fell back. I started hyperventilating.
Leroy came back.
“Run, you stupid mutt!”
He wouldn’t. He just stayed there. He licked my ankle. If hurt so much but it had a pain that eventually became enjoyable.
He turned and started licking my face, trying to get me out of it. I could feel my heart feeling like it was about to erupt, all the while hearing Leroy’s pace of breathe begin to quicken.
Everything started going dark.
The last thing I saw was Leroy’s big brown eyes.
With the shadow of a man above him.