569 Readings | 5 Ratings

You Say I Am A Dried Up Crone, Joseph

Even if they gave out prizes to poor drunk white ladies, 
I would not accept. I am comfortable in my yoga pants
and my unadorned, bare-balls abandonment of you. 
Plain is just fine. I stayed too long, sugar-coating 
and appeasing the killer in you, but listen at me gone. 
War changes people, not that I would know. 
I’m hopeless at knowing, except this: 
I always was a good girl & full of meat & gifted guns for show.
I let you get away by making you go. 
My defense is horrid. I wanted only to be left alone. 
I had you in range. I should have shot you point blank. 
Posted 11/21/14
after a conversation with writer Shannon Barber
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