Presume

I like the taste of cigarettes

The tingle of regret

In my mouth

Acting out

I like the smell of gasoline

Holding fire in my hands

Watching it dance

Conjuring

They don’t know who I am

Precious. Gentle.

No

I am depth and wisdom and passion

A warrior queen

How dare they approach me

With their sad eyes

And try

To

Hold me gently

Like some wounded bird?

I’m not fragile like a flower

Dainty. Pretty. Decoration.

I’m fragile like a bomb

Enticing. Explosive. Destruction.

Pow.

Not a delicate ship meant to sail

On calm waters

And never

Into the storm

I am mightier than the rest, and

I want the tempest

Roaring waves, thunder, chaos

I want to be wrecked

Smashed into bits. Pieces.

All hands on deck…

 

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