pray to the gods your mother gave you

if you don’t change, you are going to die / the doctor says and i want to open my mouth so he can hear the void inside of me screaming / i am already dead. i have been dead / since the day i was born / my body is a forgotten graveyard, my ribs have names washed away by time. my gauntlet hips are an edifice to which the modern man prays / they whisper [you have curves] / their lies smell like smoke. summer rot in the night / i turn my face toward the rising of the sun. / i am twisting grass together, forming charms to ward off their expectations. i hang them about my cell of a room / i dance for strangers / she’s an exhibitionist. a hussy. a minx / i am young and have nothing to prove / forgive them, father / simply / they know not what they do / because my cradle was a deathbed / i have been a ghost
all my life.

this is the power i wield / with intention / in both hands / head over heart.
the indoctrination of the feminine myth / this is what we learn:

i will not lose because i am, simply, so much / decay on the ground.

i aim to misbehave_3948540512_m

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