Ratty Batty
scratched out by Sylvanna a minute before her hormones finally fully spilled over and, elementally or just mentally, she probably got herself killed again. Oopsy-doopsie
might have been a human dude: they tend to be the cause of a lot of 'trouble' for this bitch alien space bat, got a lot of her blood, sweat and tears on their boots, soles and tongues, wow, sounds aaawfuuul
so, this ratty bat, here, she's got a bit more (openly) on her mind than her humanoid and feral incarnations. Here's a glimpse.
Sylvanna © torn-B-I-a-S
Can't say this with my jaws askew
Or with my guts ground into stew
Or with brains buckling under fear
So I'll get this out quickly here:
I'm asking, sweet, why our divide
Is one a myriad lifetimes wide
With all this room to live and grow
And love...(Oh, here we fucking go--)
What with this wild attention span...
(Just try, you bitch chiropteran)
Okay, just between you and me.
The whole world. (Right.) It works out, see:
So much room for your human gripe
And for my daydream dancing tripe!
We're living life to different ends--
But alien space bats are your friends!
Good listener, here. Watch; I'll append.
Got books and beats to recommend.
I'll spread my legs, for goodness sakes.
Or cuddles, if that's what it takes!
The beats of cosmic wings weren't why
(...They say that like there's others nigh)
Your species trembles miles beneath
With circuits crossed, and toes for teeth,
I might be short with you, I know,
My face all distant, quick to go.
I'm not a threat. Don't be appalled:
RBF, I've heard it's called
Plus all these tongue-twist topsy-turves
Are nature's ploy, or frazzled nerves
Labels help, right? Got all adorned
To hopefully be endured, not scorned
And given wing to seize the day
'Cause I'm the one in disarray
With mostly misdirected spite
(My vision's blurring as I write...)
A UFO's beyond my realm!
I'm here to hear, not overwhelm!
And I will swear, upon my life,
That I would never steal your wife!
So can you curb that resolution
Marking down my prosecution?
I know the ease of taking tone
On otherworldly skin and bone,
As well as how my organs feel
Beneath a sole and twisting heel
All bearing down, fresh for the kill--
Right, Sylvanna, maybe chill,
These guys are smart. They'll understand.
It can't all rest in my one hand.
Just breathe for once, and take the rap.
Don't lay this on my sodding lap.
Please look at me. You'll feel secured.
I'm wireframe. Shade. Victory assured.
(Come on. A shove could break my neck.
You've evolution at your beck)
And yet you're banging pots and pans.
This solitary ass, with plans?
'Space bat skulduggery'! 'Fear'! Such 'fright'!
Cut the shit--I'm half your height!
Plus, those traits? My tail, face, hair?
They're cloned, not stolen! Look! Still there!
Just quit your theorist predilections!
Can't I just reflect affections?
(No. Freak's enough, here, I suppose.)
And here's the rub. The coffer's close.
Trust you're as much a mental rover
So mull a while this notion over:
I'm such stuff as on suffering's made.
Every death a fresh cascade.
Pain, terror, rage out on the dole,
All branded on my very soul.
Might this grant a moment's pause
To still a space bat's twitching paws?
The fear that stirs her half-wit wiles?
The twitch between her frosted smiles?
Some notice for what she's been dealt
Might help dilute this hate I've felt.
But selflessness is hard to bear.
Try this instead. And try to care.
This much might be simple to grasp.
(No great feat.) Watch her tortured gasp
And know that with the breath which flies
I watch that body, as it dies
And feel the brunt of brand new pain
Like hornets in my sky-hive brain
I take it. I'm no fighting wiz.
Can't do much. (Physically, that is.)
See, these are thoughts I've always culled
If there's a point, it's eons-dulled
A prospect gnarled with knots and kink
Back long-turned on the ones that think.
In words, it helps some more steam rise
Broadcast to other pairs of eyes
It's read. Acknowledged. Sudden topic.
(But dwelt upon? ...That so anthropic?)
The way to cow a bat with tact
Or what it feels after the fact.
Not poring over its cognition
Just how it cringes in submission
(Familiar ground. You listening, now?)
Yeah, chill your tits. Don't have a cow.
This one's a less self-centred moan.
It's made for you, and you alone.
Receptacle of deepest dreams.
A spiderweb of spectral seams.
Unfurl me like a ghostly flower
For pleasure of the current hour
While I'll wonder if my sightly feigns
Toward those stood on my remains
Are ones that might leave an impression.
(Never. To my recollection.)