Glittering Bird of Prey

You hover

above everything:

a self-described mythical creature,

glittering hot pink, extended claws and 

sharp, wet teeth, ready for the next unsuspecting human to trip into your clutches, bedazzled

by the outward show you painstakingly cultivate, with greasepaint, costumes, posturing, claiming to be the best at everything, always.

Gnarled from so much pain in your past, it eviscerates your present,

while innocent bystanders (the ones not desired for consumption) are tossed down your dark hole that some call a soul.

You have grown numb to everything but your own desires,

singular, fixated, adorned,

touting others “un-evolved” as you pillage indiscriminately,

swooping in tighter and tighter circles, cawing:

“Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!”

But not too closely.

Because that’s when things become distorted, ugly;

Nature is harsh. It’s kill or be killed,

every woman for herself.

Free and glittering birds of prey can’t afford empathy...it cramps their style.

“Fuck them!” you caw. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck me...fuck me...fuck me...

I will give you everything,

until I have bitten and licked and sucked your carcass dry.

I am a glittering, hot-pink, mythical 

creature. 

Human bonds are irrelevant to me, unless they are serving my needs, filling a cavernous hole

that is never filled –

I am a bottomless pit that I circle 

around myself, outside of myself, 

but the echoes leave me haunted and wrecked,

starving,

empty.”

Your talons clutch at the broken branches you land on,

your eyes dart and follow,

here comes another one — sucker!

Bat your eyelashes, rehearse your speech,

and do what you do best:

placating the void inside you for one more day, stirring up Drama

with one more piece of meat.

You advocate for freedom above all else,

but you will collect the bones

alone.