Girls

everyman's hero

degenerate

pixels slide slowly by

your thick curls cascading

has he written poetry about you?

so practiced, so composed

let the men's choir sing

slut! whore! lust-crazed beast!

it's not true

not! it's true

true to you

learn to lie to those lied to

a web of heartstrings

and veins and arteries

lay yourself out for all to see

family, ex-groom, the Holy

it becomes so convoluted

so spine twistingly

bone crumblingly

head throbbingly convoluted

you can't explain it anymore

not even to yourself