lisa may

she walked into a bar not knowing who she was gonna get tonight. sometimes she wears this strapless dress that's this perfect shade of red looking like someplace between heaven and hell, fire and the end of time, revelation rolled up into one beautiful image of the perfect woman meeting perfection undying like icarus meeting the sun.
the smell of rapture on her breath intoxicates every man in town, but on this night, her heels will click to the sound of violent men drinking too much gin without the stomach for compassion.
for a moment she thinks this is heaven before being sucked back down to drown in the hell stench of bile masquerading as tolerance.
even dressed in a suit pressed perfect, polished and primp, he is regal and they know it. they can see it. but sometimes his boots find themselves walking toward some of the worst ones. bigots, haters, simple-minded people who don't know words like intersexed. they are corrupt men who can't see beyond their hearts turning colors that end up black. this person standing in front of them is a freak, they know it. no right to speak of love or make soft cries for mercy when they're cutting her down to size in front of their young children. now, another generation of eyes can see what they do to people who don't fit in. and then, the best part is when they carry on this sick legacy of sin onto another generation of people who just want to live normal lives...who simply want to come in from the constant raining down of horrible on their skin.

this is her reality. she's too pretty for this world. one day it'll kill her and someone will find her dead, maybe floating somewhere in some peaceful riverbed in a place too filthy for something so sacred. so she walked into this bar because she can't live life being scared. she can't dream of beautiful things unless she can have them.