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Motherfucking Unicorn.

Let me ask you,

Do you have any regard for me

Beyond the chase?

If I were a meek

weak little thing,

I'd certainly satisfy

your self-awarness

as a man; you could bring

me home to mom

a good girl.

But I am the pegasus,

the motherfucking unicorn

of women; a novelty because

I swear like a sailor

and look like a lady;

Suck your dick while

reciting Beckett

But I am so tired of this game.

So tired of feeding these men

movie lines and cliches.

I am an artwork

I am to be understood

And yet, it's a terribly difficult thing

To let somebody understand you.

So I am stuck and fucked up

by these seething defenses; these

idiot reactions are only natural

consequences to an idiotic situation.

And so onwards,

misunderstood by default

misunderstood for my own sake,

I wander the thistles of a

love life plagued with


I lied when I

praised the vague.


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'Hope, you don't have to use it on your wedding night.'

She handed the pistol to Hope, right after the vows, right before the reception.

'I'm just kidding, darling. Don't worry. He's a good man. You did well sweetheart. He's a good man. You'll be fine.'

Hope's paper-thin smile tried to grow as she stared at her grandmother's reflection in the mirror. The mother-of-pearl grip sparkled in her grandmother's hand, bathed by the Chapel's cheap buzzing lights.

'There's a bullet for you, just in case.'

Hope had left the gun on the table.

A week earlier, drunk off self-pity, she had taken it out of its case and walked to the kitchen, where she stuck the barrel in her mouth and proceeded to take pictures of herself to send to Ray.

In a rare instance of good fortune, her phone ran out of battery before she could indulge her sense of pithy revenge. She woke up and pried open her tear-salted eyelashes then made sure to delete an…