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Rock-A-Way

I went to Rockaway, tried to rock away the nightmares that led me to walk away. I felt your gaze filling in the blank parts of me, constructing an image of who you wanted me to be. Slowly those who didn’t know me hadn’t a chance to see me, I was the building you erected of me; only sturdy enough to live in the imaginary.

SIDE NOTE: Reality is a foreign concept in my family. We carry around so much shame trying to maneuver through this game, on the board displayed where LIFE ends is retirement. Not to negate how I anticipate each inclement. A slow and steady stream of energy… SPIN! 7 Steps! Reminds me, each adventure is a test, each moment to practice being my best, so that when laid to rest my soul might lift from my chest, pure, like an abbess; but I digress.

Rockaway, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye-baby… As a small child I could never lie, and slowly, I formed a chrysalis, keeping my eyes to the sky. Smart enough to know I wasn’t built to fly, but optimistic a gust of wind might catch my jacket just right, that I would take flight, find my flock, and stop weeping with each new day the sun brought. I remember Jesus spoke of letting go with each sunset. I told you I had carved it on my chest, not to worry each night I forget.

I forgive your fragility. I forgive your sexuality. I forgive the futility in your attempts to contact me, extending your olive branch - PASS. That is just an olive-colored branch with the saltiest of berries.

I remember seeing your thick stick and thinking it was magnificent. OH! Is that why you did it? Did curiosity kill my cat and leave in its wake a cunt? A cunt so loud, so proud, ego filled, with each uttered sound, of those who lay beneath me; weak and defenseless. 

With each small tweak, pulsating squeeze my waters leak. A creek babbles as it finds the nearest riverbed, long, dried since the last time my pussy wept. Eyes up back arched, I am just a little girl adjusting my sail. I wail, longing to take flight.

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