They thought they could bite,
The cactus, the monument I am,
The roars of a thousand that I dictate,
When they bit me, I was quiet,
the wrapped snake on my lips,
a picture of a crown on my head,
the lions in me dead.

He tried to chip and chisel,
The jagged tapestry that I framed,
The beautiful pasted smile on my face,
Like all guys and girls,
I was to be foolish in love,
You know, daddy issues and memories from PC Burban,

But in my opacity, the little dots
That I concealed with the sleight of words,
Hidden between oddities on my lanky body,
In the cellophane skin of my mind,
I let you know that I can be angry,
in betrayal, I’m a savage

So I was black and unthinkably visible,
Unthinkably dark and secret,
And you thought you could rip me out,

Pages by pages of the collage,
That I have decorated my temple with,
How dare you,
Please come back to bed,
How dare you

Your father taught you a lot of things,
Mine didn’t even try,

Please come back to bed, how dare you,
I miss you,

My wings were clipped and you were nested,
But I learned to fly,

Please come back to bed, you left something,

But how dare you, how dare you,
You father taught you so much,
He only forgot one thing,

That crowns are gold only to their own,
Do not mess with fires that are unknown,
Don’t dare you, don’t dare you,

Try to rip someone,
Someone with sickeningly sharp teeth,
That bite on command,

Oh how dare you, please be glad,
That right under all this arsenal,
Is what I’d like to believe, a beautifully warm heart,
and no more love, no more dreams,
just simple, human kindness that’s not for you, for me,

Please don’t come back to bed,
Even when I shout for you, especially when I call for you,
Somedays I stop myself and other days I make mistakes:
Please come back to bed, I remember the linger of your fingers on my arms,
How dare you look back,
Please don’t come back to bed.