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New Town

Natalie Nigro

There is a new bitch in town. Her last straw of patience took a hitchhike to hell; her smile shadows the burden of others. She takes delight in writing hate letters to orphans, in doing her laundry in the church’s holy water and sliding “Burning Calories for Dummies” under the girl dance team’s locker room. She silently judges the world that burned her, the friends that exiled her, the people that criticized her, and the future that laughs at her.
The town can bring out their torches and pitchforks; she will stand strong by Boo Radley, wear the scarlet letter and flirt with Daisy Miller. Goodbye sweetness, bitterness tastes better with a tequila shot of redemption. Wanting nothing more than to make judgmental observations, she sits back while they all assault her dignity, choke her efforts and gut her brain like it was a dead fish. The mind inside her is alive, intoxicated with lying salvation and deceitful truth. Sanctuary hides behind the corrupted helping hand. She looks up at the sky. The rainbow between the clouds blushes in a shameful frame and infuses into an abysmal red. The monstrous rainbow slashes the heavens dragging each cloud off their high throne down through the nine gates that always stay open, but only a one way movement.
Her right hand grips the pharmaceutical pen, the one she stole from the nursing home; she writes, The ways we suffer and the suffering we give are seldom weighed on the same scale. The ammunition is loaded in her wrist.
Watching the people make a spider web of blame to catch her in so they can liquefy her unwelcomed habits, she rolls her eyes, pulling the trigger and watching the bullets punch the page. She may not write in their favor, but they will listen to every preached and pained word she writes. If there is a battle of change versus acceptance, watch out, this bitch ain’t going anywhere.

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