Undignified Muse

if it’s the matriarchy

before me

or simply

my own fear

calling out

but when i look at you

the chorus of danger rises

run, little girl,

run for your life.

but i am already

on fire.

feelings blacked out

to unrecognition,

every sigh of avoidance,

or gleam of ecstasy, wiped

off from your tampered

little disposition; do you know?

oh, of sweet sweet memories

devoured by a dark ink

into abandonment

of relief and comfort.

You could read every

hope in the guilt, and

the inadequacy of my

interest — darling,

you were clever,

and shiny enough

for my attention

but even the Devil

wears a mask to

belong amoung the

Can you put out the fires buried dormant in my ribs, scorching my soul.

I spent years pushing it all down, compressing rage with my systematic denial until I was about to explode. And I sat on the couch, laying it all out neatly; organizing the destruction as perfectionist do.

Now you’re looking at me like I’m transparent and I’m starting to believe that I am. I cannot lie to you. My heart oozes through my skin and unashamedly pours from my eyes. My feelings for you are written all over my face and all I can do is watch you read.”

adjective

·you wonder why she never talks

every question she brushes off

how could she, you thought

maybe it's time you should know

why in silence she always goes;

it's the only place she feels at home

we step, we walk, we turn

we waltz, we pirouette

sometimes beautiful

sometimes bloody

sometimes music

moves through

I become part of the wind

the clarity of blue

the disaster of storms

oh, won't you

dance with me

I love the way it feels in my mouth, the fullness of it, the roundness of it

To say it and to mean it

(To mean it and to say it)

It feels like power, blood in my veins, an edge on my teeth

Yet it's taken me so long to come back to this, my forgotten mother-tongue

To rediscover it whole--unearthed from beneath a mountain of maybes--click those ruby red letters, and drive myself home

I'm here now and so I let it drop like a hot stone from my lips to burn through these pastel clouds around me

Crimson is just another color

And I'm afraid I've grown tired of distancing my red from blood

Can you put out the fires buried dormant in my ribs, scorching my soul.

I spent years pushing it all down, compressing rage with my systematic denial until I was about to explode. And I sat on the couch, laying it all out neatly; organizing the destruction as perfectionist do.

I was standing on the balcony again, the wind off the cliffs whipping the curtains into the room and tearing my hair free from its pins. I hear a wolf below the tower, somewhere in the trees. So do the guards at the gate; one motions silently, and together they slip toward the sound.

I pour myself a glass of wine and lean over the railing to watch them search; my guards are quite competent at dealing with the forest predators, but this is no ordinary wolf. They miss the shadow that passes through the gate behind them and lopes up the stairs.

Listening, I walk to the sideboard, and fill a second glass from the carafe.  Behind me, I hear the stomach turning sound of him Changing.  ‘There’s a robe on the bed if you want to be decent,’ I call over my shoulder.

He pads over and takes his cup from me, pausing to drink deeply before kissing the back of my neck, his skin hot from running, his lips wet with wine. ‘I don’t think I do,’ he growls into my ear, and I smile.