The High Art of Cruelty

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Sometimes, when walking around the city for inspiration, my eyes will lock with those of an "addict," a "hustler," a "thug" or a "whore." I realize these are all labels, & we're all just human beings, each with our own stories. Here's just one. lmr

 

 

I never much liked

This species:

Human being.  Never once
 
Has any one of them ever
 
Shown me love...  never
 
Embraced me
 
Just because
 
I was here,
 
And a baby, needing
 
Love;  never

Kissed my cheek,
 
Or smiled back at me
 
Just because I was
 
Young or comely or
 
My smile was sincere,
 
If maybe a little
 
Needy...
 
But still
 
A love-needing smile 
 
 
As a child

I realized this whole world
 
Could be so mean... and
 
Yes...  ugly words spat from
 
Innocent lips, sting so much...
 
And even children can be
 
Cruel.

 
 
I am older now.
 
Wiser now. 
 
Colder now.
 
Slicker... now. I
 
 
Charge them for
 
The high
 
Art of my cruelty.
 
Now I make them
 
Pay ME to be
 
Used,
 
Abused, whipped,
 
Spat upon,
 
Told they are
 
"Ugly!"  "Stupid"
 
"Worthless!"  Even more
 
Worthless
 
Than me.   Imagine that! 
 
And I am
 
"A whore."  Finally
 
 

A label...
 
In a sordid history of labels,

I can wear this one
 
Like a sword or
 
A leather jacket, coolly  
 
Slung across my back .
 
In fact,
 
Whether daily or
 
Nightly, It's a label
 
I can rock
 
And roll with,
 
Almost...

Proudly.
 
 




copyright © 2016 by L.M. Ross

 
 

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