Feeling Dirty


I like to lick the shadows and live like a queen.  Affluent influences and dirty dreams.  Magic markers spell hard truth in the afterglow, flashing like raindrops through a floodlight.  Braker breaker 1-9, cigarette butts and the ends.  Bar-down in glitter town with the touchy-feely gloves of a truck-stop masturbator.  I can dance in the shadows or run in the light.  I have to give to get when wet, you know what I mean?  I mean, I can’t have it all and eat my cake too.  We all need to get scars while working, true?  Through the bottom I can see the top, like a harpooned whale in Japanese seas.  He beached himself several hundred miles away so you couldn’t smell the rot.  Bloated bank account morphine keep living in the big scene party sheen that shines like a black light in the underbelly of that dirty dream.  It ain’t at all what it seems but gotta keep on keepin’ on if I want to be on the cover of those magazines.  I feed the beast and so do you so tell me what is true if it still feels like screaming that echoes after an alleyway murder in the Big Apple.  Take a bite and cover the fright, I promised Mr. I Won’t Tell.  The next time around I will win the spelling Bee and be the champ in this cut-up diorama of sex and make-believe.  I will make up whatever school work I missed and the make-up on my cheeks is sore from trying too hard.  14 and dressing as a politico princess from the Netherlands, shimmer like a red-light district( Mom, are sure I should look like this?), looks are everything inside this dirty dream.  Fingers in the cream, stirring another cocaine latte and chase it down with a shot of whiskey, grinning like a sinner, I am the king of entertainment.  I know the secret…every girl is a whore and they always want more of what I can give them.  Chain-link razor wire lies and silence are my favorite friends.  About to begin another soiree behind the curtains that I helped to hang upside down from my crown, I fucking own this town.  Follow me kid and I can make you a star.  Just a little further down will take you far.  Remember this is a fairy tale and it will be another memory of when you were making it in the dirty dream.  When you’re face down in the dirt, it’s never as pretty as when you are standing up.  It’s a different perspective of how ugly life can be. Teaching you a lesson, see?  I’m a predatory card-shark sure, but baby, I hold all the cards.  So do you want to deal?

Fun fact kids!  Even when you pull back the curtain, there still remain so many places to hide.  Sometimes to make a change, you have to burn the motherfucker down.  Build anew from the ashes. Chances are, you start something better.  It’s a little thing those of us on the outside like to call revolution…

but what do I know?  I know sex and abuse ain’t supposed to be in the same fucking sentence….



image Waiting for the Coffee by spiddy kitty, via Flickr

26 thoughts on “Feeling Dirty

  1. I no longer feel the need to go to confession. Just a cold shower. And a needle and thread my poor old cushion needs attention. ☺🙌

    Liked by 1 person

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