Bloodletting

Somewhere in between
the choices I made and those made for me,
I find myself unclean.
Keep your distance, only whisper;
the darkness here tends to fester.  
I will bite my thumb at you, sir.
And you can claim no offense, sir,
but I know this cur.

This bitch will come unchained,
un-maimed, again unclaimed,
searching for blame. It's not the same.
Fists tight, I aim to fight.
To wake a dragon that never
sleeps leaves no room for clever endeavors.
When death escapes the cave
all is left to the depraved.

Once brave, now I crave
what was my innocence,
misguided sense, teeth clinched.
Unsure of the next tense, I close my eyes and aim
to claim whatever I can do to overcome this.
I am ashamed and would be remiss
not to admit:
I'd sell everything I own to forget.

For Shelby

A Poem by Katie Massari

little prowler of the night
grumble dancer, 
firefly. 
protector of those that shouldn't 
or might
and definitely those that stupid why. 

you stride aloft the world 
so wide
yet, careful you,
to take the ninja stride.

no fear has she
bruce lee and Tarantino bound
because fear screams at cowards
and she's really not trying to make a sound.