#bitchfish writes

[bitchfish]

The Poem:

The Muse:

[bitchfish]

ill fated.

sometimes I wonder about reincarnation.

of my past selves

the experiences that made them beg for my current iterations circumstances.

there is a woman whose beauty turned her into a target.

skin, once entirely her own,

now stained with stranger hands

And when face to face with Death she falls to her knees and wails,

"let me be ugly

let me be wretched and ugly and finally

safe."

and for a split second to be alone doesn't feel like such a doomed fate.

that this body,

this self,

has the power of a lesson learned.

and maybe I won't lock eyes with Death and beg,

"let me be beautiful,

let me be dazzling and beautiful and finally

wanted."

and maybe Death will smile.

[bitchfish]

I haven't stopped shaking since my flesh met the pavement

I can feel the weight of your fingertips still stuck on my throat

uneven

heavy

light

heavy

HEAVY HE-

too heavy

light

static

scream

the sound I made..

the one that ripped you out of your body and made you believe in the judgement day

..that glorious kind of noise didn't get lost in that empty parking lot

it buried itself in my nerves

you are Antone.

you are Marcus.

you are Sam.

you are Joseph.

you are every man who has been burned by the skin that was

NOT THEIRS TO TOUCH

you are not special

you are violence in a lapse of a cause worth serving.

you are the burden of an afterwork grocery run,

the eye roll of a squeaking wheel,

all too crowding but so completely void.

you are.

you are nothing.

I am something.

I am.

I am the kind of confusing that inspires art, the hurt if you stare too long but damned if you won't be moved

I am a glorious kind of noise.