“have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?
maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.
maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.
maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.
i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.
i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.
i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths.”—R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained (via thenemeton)
He laughs and says,
“Come on, come and talk.
I promise I won’t bite
There is a grin on his face
Teeth sharp and shining
from within a fleshy cage.
His eyes dart up and down,
Taking in my make up, my clothes, my polished nails.
He is a predator,
And I am prey.
This is why he does not ask.
When he wants me to speak,
To come and make polite conversation
While he breathes clouds of smoke tainted breath
Across my face,
He tells me to do it.
He orders me to come
With the incentive of not getting bitten…
He grins, setting a trap for
A helpless little girl who stands next to the den of a wolf.
But he doesn’t know.
He wouldn’t know.
Someone with so many weapons,
Whose senses are consumed and laden with
The millions of inherited knives and guns
That they have held
by right of gender since the day they were born,
Could not possibly understand
That danger does not have to look deadly.
An oleander blossom is vibrant and beautiful
But if its sap touches skin,
The heart begins to shudder and stop in response.
When he admires the make up on my face
He does not know that it was painted on with steady hands
In preparation for the coming battle.
How could he know that
The clothes wrapped round my body
That are thin and soft and malleable
Will harden to unbreakable armor in an instant.
Or that the beautiful red polish on my fingernails is
Red for roses, red for love, and
Red for the blood I dipped them in.
The teeth in my mouth are filed to fine points
By all the words I do not say.
I do not smile, do not give him a glimpse of these,
My finest weapons,
As he has shown me his.
His ignorance is catastrophic in that
While he tries to play the hunter,
He cannot even recognize when he has found a dragon.
I survey my prey,
Looking him up and down
Eyes flitting over the stained shirt, the bloodshot eyes,
The tiny, dull teeth covered by puffy lips.
This hunter is not a meal.
He is hardly a mouthful.
His body could not quench the fire that sits in my stomach
His bones could not adequately pick his flesh from my teeth.
If he chose to fire a round from the barrel of his rifle,
It could not pierce the armored scales that cover my flesh.
Because I am a dragon.
I am doom and wings and claws like spears.
I am the fire in my belly that waits to burst forth
And I am the teeth like swords that sit in my mouth,
Longing to pierce the flesh of men.
He does not see this
He cannot see the force of death and destruction
That he has dared to order around
Like a pretty little pet.
This is his loss, not mine,
Because I bite.
the xkit guy is like a friend who volunteers his house to host the party, decorates the whole thing himself, makes sure to buy everyone’s favorite albums so the party mix is as bangin as possible, pays for the keg and an open bar, stays sober so he can take care of you when you pass out, cleans up…