Angels are ugly, kind creatures as
Demons are beautiful, cunning things.
Eyes glinting, windows tinted
Your bronze skin, golden hair–
You weren’t so damned misleading
My hand closed around your quarry’s
And we shot out the bar like, well
The bullet that splashed indescribable
Textures onto my sanctuary’s walls–
I was never under your spell
Collapsing into some kind of vacuum
We debated about your existence.
“What in the actual fuck?”
Was the decided ultimate question–
We settled on action: only resistance.
Killer J, is it pride or is it boredom?
You’ve all the privilege in the world
But you waste your precious time
Chasing bartenders and dead celebrities–
Huddled, crouched, hearts nearly cored.
Who will really have the last word?
If you think you can just corner me, re-think.
You won’t be sleeping sweetly.
You may think you have some claim–
But I don’t bite and tear and rip apart gently.
Downtown Platinum (c)2017 Karin Mayville
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