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abandon me

in a lonely white room with roses

red ones

as if my blood spilled on the floor

and you slipped around on it

like I was delicious finally

sticky like post-sex sweet love

oh we are born knowing how to do it

this particular sacrifice is what we do,

as women

we make you hunger for us

only when we split ourselves apart

and make it your art

to admire

our veins anemic

as you coat yourself ankle deep

in every drop of truth

that we squeeze out at any age

but particularly our youth

and we watch as your footprints

follow your shadow, they leave a trail,

they stain,

and you'll always remember

that blood never smells like roses

it smells like metallic shame,

like iron

and my gift to you is that strength,

and that pain.

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