Complex, Cursed, Cute and Can’t Complain

Week 2573 on Earth.

I have already had so many roles and titles and positions before this.

I became human in 1975. Born a niece and daughter. Near sighted.

At 574 weeks, a woman.

A student, neglected child victim of domestic violence, Christian, sister, Amazon, heavy set, nerd, writer, singer, laborer, bitch, girlfriend, suicide attempt survivor, sexy, driver, voter, slut, thief, drinker, free spirit, smoker, Buddhist, Soror, tattooed and branded, aunt, college graduate, mother, wife, debtor, Teacher, traveler, Atheist, sexual assault victim, psycho, author, Manager, cheater, person living with BPD, and a Humiliatrix all before I became something new on this day.

I see my whole self now.

Today I understand the job.

I’m a siren.

Those roles and positions and titles I lived before were all practice for this one- prep if you will.

A terrifying corrupter of weak men.

The ultimate bird.

The embodiment of temptation.

A warning sound beckoning.

I am she on this day

when I recalled

due to the most recent recoil

All the placating I used to do

To keep close

What fears me most.

Today no tears would come about

his running screaming, or the one before or the one prior to-

I’ve cried years of tears because of my labels whether earned or given except for this one.

I ain’t even mad I’m here.

The curtain is pulled back-they tend to find the most modest mousiest demurely quiet submissive doormat maid mommy stand ins when they, bound to the mast, make it safely to somewhere they can die on grass.

I’m too adventurous.

This level of living makes me laugh honey colored moonbeams.

The label finally fits.

I am she. I’m not magical I’m mythical.

How many have I angered, intimidated, embarrassed, shook simply by existing?

I tried and cried and lied to be a lighthouse-but I misunderstood the assignment.

All those roles, titles, positions and labels led me inevitably to this post.

My giggles are lyrical.

Holler if you hear me.

You are correct wayward mariner.

I am your undoing.

Come kiss me, scaredy cat.