Authors note: I am profoundly and wholeheartedly broken at the horrific news of the passing of a magnificent young woman. Who walked hand in hand into a job with me, we both dreamed of pursuing.  Though I suffered a loss and hardship and had to let my dream sail sadly away- she continued her journey. Rouge waves wrongfully have affected everyone that she left her beaming essence on. Rest in paradise, door buddy. I am proud to publish my first ever Julia-Katherine original poetry piece. That will forever be in honor of cash-wrap partner, Susy-Q.

 

I’ve never been called a crybaby

But you have made me cry lately.

My stage calls. My beautiful cast members need me,

I must cover up now.

I’ve never been known as a crybaby, but you’ve made me cry lately

How could someone who was once so beautiful to me,

Turn out to be

So damn ugly.

In the quickness

Of the

I M P A C T

Of a,

BLOW.

And I did.

I’ve never won anything in my life

Except to be the champion

At catching myself in the numbered statistics

In which one in four women and children get

BLOWN AWAY.

Your blow sent me

C A S C A D I N G

Tearing, ripping, bleeding

Through the branches, twigs, and trees.

Through familiar and unwordly mental territory

That was sworn by myself…

N * E * V * E *R

To be disturbed again.

Fuck you.

I got up from your blow

And was bleeding

“For no goddamn reason, little girl.”

They empty reasoning of three pairs of eyes

Three too many.

I calmed your demons as you used me as your antidote.

Thinking you slapped all the sweetness,

after roughly sniffing in all my fears.

*inhale, inhale, inhale*

Your fangs were dripping white lies, like your nostrils.

*exhale, exhale, exhale*

Trying to use me to satisfy that

INSATIABLE

Hunger. To fill that painful appetite.

Poor little boy.

You were never taught to fend for yourself. And that is why you seek wrongful “retribution.”

At the perfectly contoured corners, of my- of her, highlighted cheekbones.

Out of my sweet, rare soul.

Now, I laugh at you.

You tried.

And though the strikes you lassoed to my face

 From the claws of your unearthly species

 Did not fatally destroy me

The blows from others of your kind have.

And they have taken.

To early.

To young.

To what do you owe the mentally misdriven reason to think you may even think of laying your satanically scarred hands on our bodies.

Not all of us have made it through the tree.

1 in 4

But some of us

1 IN 4

Me

ONE IN FOUR

Survived, once again.

O * N * E

I * N

F * O * U * R

 

My sweet sister, may your angel wings thrive, develop and spread virtue to the ones who need it most. Though you are not here to spread inspiration for your daughter, in teaching her- her worth and what an example of a woman her mother is. You are still here. Your smile still lingers with me, door buddy. This is for you.