Nectar runs a maze
Of tributaries down my face
Fermented rain
Down a cigarette drain,
Fruits of a Floundering youth.

Scrub the dirt from my feet
From a journey to forget
A bruised mind
And red eyes.

I'm not a woman so you can be a man
Probing, your indulgent hands

I'm not a woman so you can touch
Respect, is that too much?

I'm not a woman so you can call me pretty
Your play-thing, your little kitty?

I'm a woman to walk this earth
with dignity,
Strength,
And
Power.

Does your incessant babble drown
The caustic whispers of your mind?
Your mouth gapes and seeps,
I see shadows
Of your trite disquise.

Cliches, such things worn out with careless use
Small razor blades now stained and dull with rust
Always old news, threads of a shrinking noose
These tasteless words the wisest fools do trust
And use to convey stale souls phantom glow
The human rage to keep our beings sure
Disturbance of still water, poets know
Compels sweet rebels with the constant lure
Of spirits free, possessing boastful life
Defying predetermined fate as nought
To seize the dawning day sans dread of strife
And win the battle, valiantly fought
We plead with wills to sprout wings, to soar
A simple contradiction, evermore

You were a transient, a charmer,
and you,
tread on my organs with your
traveling shoes
And mourned like a shape-shifter
Singing the blues

Your whispers were heavy with tentative permanence
Crooning a prologue of hollow absence