Tonight's Poet Corner: Fucked Up

Fucked Up
by Belinda Roddie

I'm a lesbian-loving
thespian who dresses
their best and rests
their balance on flimsy
psychiatric tests.

But stressed as I am,
I'll bend over backwards
'til my lungs depress
for your smile's finesse
while my brain's in distress.

Take my arm, Rorschach:
No, not the Watchmen maniac.
We're going dancing.
And I won't look at your inked face.
Just your broken back.


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