Pray It Isn't Loaded

Poetry

by Bebe Blackwood

There’s a girl upstairs and I need you to understand

you can never trust her 

 

There’s a girl in the back of the car I can barely drive 

and no matter how she begs, I can never let her take the wheel

 

She’ll run me off the road; 

blink, and we’re in a ditch,

blood like cherry drops and lime cordial and cruel summer air

all mixed together, sugar-sour in my mouth and nose and throat, 

vision midday-dark with the beating of the drum 

 

Heaven knows what she wants with me, 

but given half the chance she’ll take over the house, some kind of 

invasive plant creeping over the walls,

slow as light

 

There’s a girl with a knife and a mad philosophy of “stabbing that which offends”

and “gutting anyone who disagrees” and

if you’ve got any sense, you won’t try to take either from her

 

There’s a girl standing right behind me 

with a gun to my head

and there’s nothing I can do but say her name

Bebe Blackwood is from “‘down near London” and lives in northeast England. She writes poetry
about whatever is on her mind (usually too much) and fiction under a different name. She is
inspired by everything and anything. When not writing, Bebe can be found talking to her cat
(who is a very good listener), singing, and daydreaming.

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