I just don’t have any princess in me;
the gentlest of souls who think of earning my grace
are going about it all wrong.
I know the books scream at me I wanna be saved
but I’ve already saved myself.
And what has anyone better than that
I don’t want
Beat me bad if you can, I wish
And I want to place my hand
in every sweet boy’s and drop
a switchblade, “tag, you’re it”
and know that one
will catch me