Mousetrap Binary
Take a guess at which side of the bed I woke up on, while sleeping next to my inner would-be lady.
THE SAME WRONG SIDE.
Guh. Morning breath. And we both look older in the mirror.
I will rise
From this squalid body,
Will I rise
Place a rapier through your ribs
Crush the old definition,
Embracing all the while
Get a rise
I rise from bed,
Sense of safety defunct
Empty, crushing pressures--
Expectations rise,
He awakes the room over
I rise up from this squalid body
I am playing concubine,
Housewife, vixen,
Would-be maven
I look down,
See the danglers swing.
Fuck.
Crudely, someone laughs
I dream of placing their face, in the hamburger press
Of a nearby George Foreman
"Shit, you kidding? Support your stroll
to squeeze into a different pair of shoes--"
I smash down harder.
I'm the vixen.
You can't compare a shade of Sepia to orange or brown.
"So invent your own little world, and live in--"
I squeeze grease from their bloody nostrils.
I curl my fists in fury.
I long to live in a world, where I can show my beauty.
Alright. I get a rise from slipping in
Slip into a skin I've never worn
Thinking 'twould be better if my soul were shorn
From empty form, while playing to an empty norm.
And wrathful images are formed
While softly scoffing
At my hubris, I adorn myself
In unfitting garment.
Feeling unremarkable
Unseen
Unheard
Never to rock the boat.
Unless...