I think about all the women who were your lovers…
They are my sisters now…
We are survivors of you.
We are the same.
Connected because of you.
We are like sailor soldiers.
Powerful, strong, beautiful.
You tried to destroy us, but we cannot be destroyed.
You tried to control us, but we will not be controlled.
You wrap your fingers around the neck. taunting.
force our head side to side with a glare, that says, “…give up! give up! I won!”
A slap in the face can get you hard…
The hotel room, in the sunlight, through the curtains. I can see you in a dream. And we can be happy there. But it’s always just a dream. The room has turned upside down and everything has fallen over on its side like were in a fun house spinning barrel. Everything is destroyed… the lights have gone out, and you still pretend to love me…
There’s space between us. we are at war with each other like Mortal Kombat…
Fight! don’t come for me until you realize that you are in bed with a real poet… you are with a real woman.
Poets can kill with metaphor.
a single verse to the head and BANG! you’re dead!
me and all your ladies say fuck you in unison.
because we are in unison… and you should be really scared.