I Run in Six Inch Stilettos

I’m a go big or go home
kind of woman,
when I dive, it’s deep,
and when I drown
I learn a new way to breathe.
Everything has its time
and place in energy.
Sometimes you’ll need to
slink off into an alley
to lick your wounds clean.
You can take your
time but you best learn
to use it wisely.
You break your ankle under
the bridge while
trying to walk in these heels,
you better quit whining
and pull yourself back up.
If they’re under four inches,
I won’t wait around
for you to try and catch up.

– B.


My rats tend to gravitate
to my neck, where the
heat pools alongside a
dense blanket of hair.
I’ll drift a finger across
a skull much smaller,
and they’ll purr their
teeth in soft chatter.

I always wonder how
loud my own pulse is,
no matter how very
gentle the pressure,
if it sounds like thunder
against their thin ears.

They still relax in rest
before falling asleep,
every single time,
as if it’s all a reminder.

– B.


In the mornings I often break bread with the rats, brew dark coffee, slip on a pair of matching gloves and a high-collared coat.

I head to work for the majority of the day, just like everyone else. I prowl down the hall in stilettos and (reluctantly) offer my help.

By noon I’m itching at my own seams, jotting down peculiar concepts for stories or listening in for clues to life’s mysteries.

When I come home I exchange pleasantries with my newfound memory, progress flexibility and kiss a figment of my imagination to sleep.

At night I polish my arsenal, rationalize with my inevitable boredom and remind myself that this routine (like all things in life) is temporary.

– B.

Red Velvet

This is a satin daydream,
a seating on the lap of
an epiphany, a coy smile
shot over the shoulder,
a slow swipe of a finger
through the icing.

Don’t waste a moment
to have your cake and
eat it, too.

Life’s full of opportunity,
but chances are there is
someone else waiting
to take it from you.

– B.

Spring Cleaning

The past is officially buried,
properly, six feet below, along
with the bones from a closet
I’ve been cleaning for months.

You better scrawl out all you
thought you’d known before,
pencil in a new response or
settle your own internal score.

Because the slate is clean,
the faces change in dreams,
life’s full of epiphanies and
a memory isn’t the real thing.

– B.

A Partnership

Those who take life head on are
always at risk of selfless wounds,
sometimes life’s obstacles can
tear the strongest of armor loose.

Those who slip diamonds in their
cheek are always running from
something they can never reach,
always at risk of cutting their teeth.

This is the natural order of trying,
without a challenge life feels weak,
sometimes our loss promotes growth
when our efforts seem rather bleak.

When it comes to crushed casings,
even with crimson in my own throat,
you can bet I’ll be around to find you
when no one else can seem to cope.

I can’t promise my assistance won’t
always come without a few coy quips,
but when hope feels all but lost,
I’ll be there to help pull the debris off.

– B.

Cracking Codes

Gloved fingers hide prints,
restrict consciousness
and always extend out
towards life’s gold first.

Now this isn’t to say my
attention lies in materials,
the world has a cruel face
I prefer to put in its place.

I may utilize a method akin
to emboldened robbery,
I may pave the road mainly
to achieve my own goals.

I’ve a knack for misbehaving
and at times it’s clearly shown,
but I’ll always find my own way
to come through for you.

– B.