I'm only interesting
To men who want to discuss Kubrick
And **** after.
In a world where we expect our lovers
To pull themselves under the influence
And sodomized freely,
I expected mine to rise above
And he did.

What was it like
Bleeding out into your wedding dress
When the wounds cut too deep to bear?
Fighting back our urges to help,
We instead flocked to the funeral
Where the beer was free
And finger foods flooded our senses,
Immunizing us against your cries.

In a world where he accepts me as his prodigy
Instead of his lover,
I live in a chasm of ignorance.
I look up to him as anything;
My hero,
My love,
My place of enchantment,
Though he looks upon himself
As nothing but a loser
And a failure.
In a life of looking up,
I've seen quite large men and women
Shrink when challenged
But I have yet to see him falter.

When the police came to get me
There was no force, but tons of crying.
If you've ever felt what I felt in that moment,
I hope that you had the sense
To put a bullet in your head.
Six kilometers East and another seven South
A baby no one loved was being born
And a young woman's innocence was being stolen
Through a paraphysical form of ****.
I stood shrieking on the corner,
Mouth agape.
And I got in my car that night
And I took nothing but right turns
All the way to the nowhere I was inching towards,
Trying to see if that myth about the world being flat
Was true.
I wanted only to see for myself
That driving a long enough distance from home
Would eventually drive me over the edge.

A man at my local zoo
Once showed me how snake venom
Effected human blood.
While dripping a drop of the acrid mess with one hand,
He held a small container of life in the other
And with a drop and a swirl of his wrist,
The blood was coagulated
And obviously unable to flow.
In that moment I knew
That love
Was the venom
And I
Was the blood,
Slowly congealing and
Falling at my only purpose:
Staying alive.

Other women
Have never posed a threat to me.
Maybe it's the spring in my step
Or the way I wear my hair,
But men can never get enough of me.
The way I walk
Has never been graceful
But I have always tread on hearts
With love at first
And destruction second.
Yes, it's true,
Men can never get enough of me.
The switch of a film reel,
The spring in my step,
I've never had trouble
Finding a person
Who lusts for me.
With the wiseness of an elder
And the recklessness of a droog,
Men can never find their fill.

I couldn't trick myself into loving you,
Just as I couldn't bear
To bring rhyme or reason to my writings.
Trochees and caresses
Are for *******
Who don't know how to deal
With chaos and rejection.