self-fulfilling prophecy
I am not a cat, I don't have
nine lives at my disposal
I can't disappear into the night
when I need a fresh start,
a rebirth from the darkness
It's more like I am
Wreck-It-Ralph
or some character in
an arcade video game
You put the coins in to play
You decide my lives
You
I am not the hero of this story
I never was
Women, we are
so easily sidelined to
sidekicks and lovers and villains
My part, I've always thought,
was best classified as the witch
I'm not good
I'm not bad
I'm just right
I'm the witch, you're the world
I've always been right
unfortunately
But I'm still here
wrecking it, or maybe
trying not to
Following you into the woods
taking bites of my own poisoned apples
I make my bed, and lie in it
then remake it
again and again
swallowing quarters and
getting ready for the next round
landing on my feet, or at least
trying to