But nobody never gonna tell you the way. You gotta figure it out boys & suffer the rain. And the fools in the night, and the heat in the day. When all you ever really wanted was someone to understand.
And I lit a fire that wouldn’t go out. Until it consumed the walls and roof of this house. Until all I remember was burning away. And all I remember, you burnt it away. Well don’t you take it so hard and baby don’t you cry. Cross your hard heart and hope to die. Don’t you tell me no more lies, you lied all the time. Don’t you tell me no more lies, you lied every night.
And you’re sugar and spice, and everything nice. You got Monroe hips, your poison lips and eyes. And you’re sugar and spice, and everything nice. You got open wounds in a young boy’s pride.
I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store with all those keys glittering in the window, past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders. I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment from its hanger like I’m choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-cries and the love-cries too, and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin, it’ll be the goddamned dress they bury me in.
We read a few of Kim’s other poems in my poetry workshop and I’m loving her so much right now.