Candlewax

There’s no candlewax for people like me.
They say we need to be pixie stix but sugar-free,
Photoshop makes hourglasses of gumdrops and calls them real candy but
My friends and I know our sugar-gelatin hearts and breadcrumb souls cooked in a brick oven are what make us their morning coffee –
But there’s no candlewax for people like me.
They say we need to get a job,
Middle-class raises make us failures –
Taxes bleed out our arteries and coins drop shining like tears down our marble countertop cheeks-but
My friends and I know our words aren’t thinner than paper dollars and none of our eyes are green,
But there’s no candlewax for people like me.
They say we need to be black or white.
A little kid with a short haircut wants to be Cinderella for Halloween but
Their dad tears sobs from their throat and
Injects the word faggot in place of breath.
My friends and I know that black and white are two of many,
Grey scribbles all over our bodies, in between our eyes.
There is no candlewax for people like me.
They say we need to leave our abusers,
Abuse is irreverent, love twisted tighter than a copper spring,
Roses crushed underfoot on the gravel pathway to my front door.
They say I drink fire and spit daggers, I swallow mortal men who hold hands with clouds,
I am not their elixir of life but they cling to me like my vagina is the fountain of youth –
They say I spilled holy water at dinner and laughed when it started to burn my thighs but
The truth is I lit a cigarette inside their ribs and watched the smoke smother the light behind their eyes but –
My friends and I know that I carry a scythe in my back pocket without a license, I dig my dagger teeth into everyone who touches me –
My friends and I found out I am serpentine –
There is no one left to destroy but myself.
There is no candlewax for people like me.

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