Fat Bottom Girl Said What

When my ass talks, people listen.

Whitewash

It all comes back to black

the color of rot and death

and a murder of crows

and of my insides

since I came across you

I want so much to shed the cloak of it

and experience other colors again

like red

the red of your blood

flowing from your nose

as my fist connects with it

gushing from your head

as the perfectly timed swing of my bat unites with your thick skull

dropping a trail from your bottom lip

as the back of my hand meets your lying mouth

but still

the red cannot compete with the black

so I wait for a source of light

to wash over me

and dilute it

and make it gray

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2 thoughts on “Whitewash

  1. FBG, Soooo feeling this one, babe. I love the imagery. I also descend into fantasies of punching the crap out of some fuck-tard now and again and nothing is more satisfying than being in that anger space and owning the feelings, channeling them into a positive vessel (like you’ve done here by way of poem), and tasting the nuances of all of it. Simply delicious. Don’t ever let anyone talk you out of your need to express this stuff, not that you would. It’s safe to do all of this on the page. If people don’t like it, you can tell them to come talk to my fat ass. I’ll set them straight or sit on them, one of the two. Hahahahahahaha! I love you, girl. XOXO

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