i wonder who little orphan annie would be
if she had seen the things i've seen
would she still be singing
"the sun'll come out tomorrow"
or would she sink into the pit,
"i want to off myself", sorrow
bitch had daddy warbucks to save her
mine never came.
my heart throb, dark angel man, savior
instead, i've been an "or-a-fist" orphan
tricked and whored
upon this alter
despair, destruct, implied, implored
the pain of being bent
over the railing, into hell
sodomized on secrets
mind, "meat-minced", to dwell.
i try to think "positive!"
but it doesn't last very long
seems i'm telling myself lies,
far too weak to stand strong
watching as all the other urchins grow
and live to say "i told you so"
"you're too negative to get what you want"
has turned me into "soft seething" sore cunt
which is beyond unattractive
and not worthy of adoption
as "you bet your bottom dollar"
takes on new meanings and options
like get me to the nearest bang,
for a buck.
barely alive still counts
as a "good enough" fuck.
as long as i'm still sort of pretty,
in the dark
us orphans, so needy
will do anything, literally, on the lark
that maybe that ship will come in and not sink
keep dreaming, keep praying
don't look back, stop to think
that maybe little annie
was a fraud,
compulsive lies, wants and whims
or maybe not,
can the happy ever conjoin to the end?
without bending and crawling
who knows, gotta go,
it seems some thing, but no one, is calling....
12 february 2019 ringwald love
the realm of the poetic.
prisoner of the psyche and the inescapable. heart.