Blood Can Be Pretty

I ran from my childhood
Right into your arms
The All-American boy
With sandy blond hair,
A chalk white smile –
Grinning from ear to ear
While behind your back, fingers crossed
You are make-believe, my feet not grounded

In the land of corn and silos
You were Saint Isidore
And by your illusions I did conceive –
Inside me grew a baby of familiarity;
I had broken free from the devil I knew,
Only to be captured by a slippery serpent
Your heart is black, my heart was dust

But blood can be pretty, crimson and viscous
As your school-boy grin spewed vomit and piss
Claiming your dominion you made me feel less –
Not quite a woman, but an unintelligible bitch
But a girl like me knows how to sow a seed
I used your Iowa embryo to grow a stalk for me
You are long gone, I am untethered