Gem or Junk, Writings

Push, Pardon

To all those that push

All those that fight
All the lost losers losing loosely

To all you buggers, barren, beaten, bullied
You faghags, batty boys, effeminate pussies.
You bitches, bastards, shit eating motherfuckers

You subjugated, segregated,
Degraded with self hatred

To all of you the gods have deemed unworthy
To you the saints deemed sinners
And the unoriginal condemn as abnormal

I raise this glass to you.
This chalice of human transgressions overflowing with feral iniquity.
I am queen of imperfections
And I toast to you.



If I had been standing there,                           would you have noticed?

Would you smile and wave, or do that thing people do when they see you and walk on by?

I bet you’d do that thing. That awkward looking around, pretending you haven’t noticed the familiar face in front of you.

Pretending there’s no history, no love, no hate, no hurt feelings, no fond memories, nothing.

Two perfect strangers passing,                        like ships in the night.

Yea, you’d probably do that thing. Maybe not on purpose, but you’d do it. Always a little too preoccupied to see the hand reaching out for you. Somehow indignant when I decide to save myself instead. I know you.

So, I’m curious.

If I had been standing there with you, on the edge of Calloway County before you disappeared, would you have noticed?