My first night behind the mike
A slow simmer of the chatter
of subtle catcalls bruised by pauses and already falling apart
My heartbeat a battering ram in my aching guts
breaking into a silence that lasts a bit too long

but don’t get me wrong
I know to walk before I run
Just because I talk fast doesn’t mean the moments pass any quicker
unless you’re already blasted on the liquor
I pick my battles carefully, but I don’t rattle easily
I just prepare my saddle for the fight
I might seem like I’m standing here, fists tight, like I missed the beat
But I’m just waiting for the rhythm to repeat

I twist my words like birds in murmeration
a lark who can strike a spark of frustration
with a subtle syncopation and a flick of my wrist
A little flicker of a flame
Blown out like a candle when you call my name
My lyrics like static running through my brain
But I’m scandalous, slanderous
My aspirations fathomless
I’m turning up the temperature in my hypothalamus
My appetite is ravenous
My hunger cavernous
Consuming every syllable
Until I fill or fall down dead

I don’t mean to sound big headed
I’ve not earned the right to bread and butter myself up when still sipping from a sippy cup
I’m abrupt in my sentences, I interrupt your senses,
but I am up for any momentous overture you would like to play
I’m just a symphony away from packing up my bags and quitting
But you’re still sitting there staring at me
so I guess I’ll leave on your knees with your inadequacies
as you pray to Jesus that you’ll please us with the shit you got to say

Perhaps you’ll amaze me with an onomatopoeic bang
Or clang your head like a cymbal crash
and bash your lovely brains in on the bricks
Perhaps you’ll stick your tongue to the frozen post and boast of how you will roast me over the spit
kick me headfirst into the snake pit
and hope I break every bit of my ego
on the way down

But you’ll find I don’t drown easy
I’m a masochistic mistress
I kiss death for breakfast
and while you wish for a little rest
I’ll be testing my mettle with my lips wrapped around the boiling kettle
to make sure that my tea is nice and hot
I’ve got what takes to wake up and see the apocalypse coming
I’m running in heels from a velociraptor
I’m cutting down navy seals with a battle axe
I’m waxing my legs in a stream of lava
and I think you’d rather just be nibbling on avocado toast
You can’t roast me I’m a disease in your throat
I’m the sneeze in your nose
and you’re the please in the note you wrote in class and asked her tick yes or no
You’re the slow trickle and I’m the fucking flow
You’re a thick stumble and I’m on ballet toes
you’re a rotten apple and I’m the rose
you’re a half forgotten mumble and I’m Edgar Allen Poe

I pay no heed of my enemies
When they sting like anemones and then pretend to be a friend to me I don’t rage
Because I know in the end they’ll be just an addendum on the page of history
And me?
I’ll ascend like a pyrotechnic blaze to the front cover
And they’ll have to smother their liar tongues when they run to see that fire
and they can burn, like they always aspired to,
when they discover

how far

I’ve come.