a poem and a song:
keep your guard up, little one. the fire is here. it's already at the foot of the bed. keep your eyes opened wide, little one, and be ready to jump. be ready to run. be ready to lie to their immaculate faces in response to the damage they have done. Truth has the benefit of being historically endorsed, he tells me, but maybe if we look close enough we will see there are also positive attributes and outcomes from the telling of lies. then he held me tightly to him in the white bed. the fire was at my feet. he said LOOK AT ME. he remembered then something i'd said the night before about wanting to have my face slapped and up went his hand. keep your guard up, little one, you've already taught him now how to love you. keep your guard up, little one, you've told on yourself. your secrets are hanging half-way out. put your tongue back in his mouth, whatever it takes to keep you from talking, whatever it takes to keep you from confessing. confession is the alter of love. keep at a safe distance. that isn't what we've come here for. back up. watch him, if you will, swell inch by massive inch and don't let go of the beauty of this impressive view. high and hard, little one, keep your guard up. keep your eyes opened wide. keep your tongue out. don't blink and don't explain a fucking thing.