Bitch
I want to pull you out of me like tape
from a cassette
and all your music will lie crumpled at my feet.
(There is too much
I have yet to erase.)
The town you live in
has all the flavor of cigarette paper
but instead of watching it burn
I chewed it up like bubblegum
(how many times
will I have to break my jaw over you?)
Spring never really came for you
unless you count that day you noticed the rings
in that glass case you call security
and sang Patsy Cline as you undid her bra.
(I can narrate the whole scene and yawn at the end
but I can’t be your suicide doll anymore.)
I can’t be the dog that lies her head on your knee
some bitch waiting to play fetch all day
in the sun-swallowed wheat fields
(oh, I can’t wait
to show you how much I don’t care.)
I have a secret that makes me claustrophobic
the ceiling is too low
and I feel like a deranged parakeet
gnawing at the bars of the cage.
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