My Cardboard Balcony

Analogies by Belinda Roddie You left fingerprints all over the mountains of my body - every crack, cliff, and crest, every raised fear and freckle, every spark of a spat, the tripped tongue, the arched eyebrow, the teeth- scratched lower lip - scratch out the memory, scratch out the eyes (Oedipus could've have performed it better) How much hot water do I need to wash away your artificial sweetness? And if soap doesn't work, will blood do the trick? And if the blood is stale, what will I drink to stave off your ghosts and your goblins, creeping behind the bathroom door? You kiss pages of Scripture without their consent and remark that my etchings bring me closer to Christ, when really, I'm expunging myself of the Holy Spirit and His creeping digits across my collarbone I see right through you, Pharisee: It's like dipping your hand into a fragile jar of honey and pulling out a gun.

You Know... by Belinda Roddie Honestly, shutting cishet white men up is a great idea.

Her Worst Nightmare by Belinda Roddie I know what birds are, Mom! They just scare me!

Violet by Belinda Roddie I like to think this is the same color my soul is. If it's there. I'm not exactly a spiritualist. I don't believe in aurae or a lot of new age stuff. But I am drawn to things. Shapes, textures, the way lines form something bigger right before my eyes. Colors especially. This hue in particular just works. It works really well. I have a little bit of noble blood. I like to think that I'm noble overall. My friends seem to think I'm a calm voice of reason, like a royal advisor - I could use a purple robe, or a purple suit, for that. It's funny because most of the time, my brain can never hold onto a shade like that. It goes red. Blue. Green. Gold. White. Never just one monochromatic moment. Never a dull moment. I'd like my brain to be this color. See, it's fancy, but also, it's the cosmos. It's a spectral and a non-spectral color, depending on what you call it or how it falls in line with your vision. Violet was identified by...

I'm Old by Belinda Roddie I love creamy bisque, but it sure doesn't love me.

So close to the school year being over. So close. So close. SO FREAKING CLOSE. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

A Throuple by Belinda Roddie Bring me two lovely ladies in an alternate universe, and I shall lay betwixt their bosoms with warmth radiating between my lips. One shall be queen, the other a star, and I am merely the supernova waiting to appear in your future. But in this universe, I am perfectly content to be monogamous with a woman who is the entire cosmos. Why shirk off the entire universe when you can kiss it any time of day?