how brave she must be
to face her enemies
hands bound behind her back
a rusty lantern levitating before her
setting her eyes ablaze.
don’t let the halo fool you.
She’s no martyr
She’s not heaven sent
or divinely gifted.
she will not knock on your door
and ask your permission
she will make you
pour holy water into her wounds
while screaming in ecstasy,
stretching her hands up to heaven.
she doesn’t believe in god
she doesn’t believe in justice.
she falls asleep fantasizing about self harm
wrists that are opened and then sewn back together
she makes up these scenarios
not as a means of inflicting damage
but as a road to retribution
too long she’s been pushed aside
chopped into pieces and carefully sealed into
thrift shop bags
who wants to buy a sexy, self-destructive no-girl?
who would like to buy an unfinished sentence
echoing into eternity?
this time, she won’t be the hog
tucked in the bag
but the one selling
this is all of me
watch me burn
cast your incantations
fire to smoke to embers to dust
the desire to change is eternal