metaphors for armageddon

Women are bitches

boys, you’d better watch out
because nice guys ALWAYS finish last

so those strippers, those girlfriends, those hookers,
or that girl you picked up at the bar last night
fuck you
because they are out to get all the males in the world
with diseases like chlamydia and AIDS ... and heartbreak
but it's funny, because guys like you taught me
that if you fuck a person

over and over and over
you gain power over them
and I hate being under your influence
because I have given up on happy endings
and settled for instant gratification instead.


The only love letters you ever wrote me
drip down my thighs like comfort
and honestly I find it strange
that I am so empty
when you fill me up like this.

I saw that you wrote reminders
of yourself into my sheets
in case I forgot what it felt like
to bleed affection out the morning after.

I keep memories of you like trinkets in my pockets
fondling the edges of photographs to remember
what I'm supposed to be in love with
when I'm alone in the hospital writing worn out sonnets
spelled out with morning after pills and RU-486.

You glide past me like napalm sears the skin of war victims;
held my arms up at crucifixion and
pressed me up against the wall with eskimo kisses
where your tongue(s) snaked into my ears like foreign languages.

(If only God could spare me from the judgment I put upon myself,
because I'm still waiting for that day to come.)

You came into my life like a violent whim
winds blowing grit into my eyes like sandy caresses
and I can only hope the nacre can cover up remnants of your devotion
devotion, like holier-than-thou attitudes

because we are both just broken souls
and the glass shards we've walked on all our lives
have embedded themselves in our veins

arteries like highways clogged up by traffic accidents,
flying through windshields because we
make love without seatbelts on.

You laid me like I was a floor,
and the rooms below us shook when we quaked.
The drywall trembled as I walked you back out at 3 AM
because you don't want to see my face in the morning

and who can blame you?

but how dare you judge me for my decisions over my own body
this isn't for you, this is for the girls who use sex as a weapon
because we forgot the flaw in playing by the rules that oppress us
forgot that sex hurts, and it's a survival tactic

and
it
is
power

and we are so goddamn sick of feeling powerless