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'beautiful, if i say i am'

I know her. I know the �hood she grew up in. street preachers, in
their Strother Martin faces. for a dollar a prayer, they will speak
your name directly to God, & you can get your soul saved at bargain
prices. but when they close up shop at night, they spend your salvation
money on the nearest whore & a pint of the local gut burner.

where little girls cower behind cement steps, clinging to raggedy
ann & watching the nightly shootouts: 8-ball side pocket cowboys
& robin hood messiahs.

& this little girl, this stone-able weed, grew up quick & mean in the
wailing winds, the auguries of desolation. her old man was blown
to hell burgling a liquor store. her mother overdosed on alley drugs
& college boys who majored in heartbreak.

she could�ve earned her degree in whoring. the pimps would have
welcomed her to the fold. but her agenda didn�t include fornicating
with pigs.

if you tell her to suck your dick, she will crush your balls. she could
cut you with a kitchen knife or a straight razor, & pick your pockets
while you�re donating blood to the blacktop.

she�s colder than January�s eyes; she�s a death-metal dream.

there is no hope in this hopeless city, but defiance shines in her aura.
& when she says she�s beautiful,
she means it�

Written by JohnFeddeler

Published 20th Aug 2013

All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.

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Re: 'beautiful, if i say i am'

Golden

20th Aug 2013 7:38pm

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.