When the Cold Stopped Being Cold – Emily Laubham

Many men have called me Saint.
Blessed in their legends as The One
Who Puts Up With. Well-versed in giving
freely from my veins, being patient
as they drink from the Fountain of Me.
 
Salvation, I thought,
was got by giving. But I was alone
when the cold stopped being so cold.
Baptized in rain, I realized:
Redemption, in the end, will be a grace
I grant to me.
 
When that day comes,
call me anything
but Saint. Call me archfiend,
call me wizard.
Call me jezebel in jeans.
 
Bless me in your legends:
The Most Pretentious, Righteous Bitch
who bit her lip and drank the blood
while men went hungry
in the streets.

Emily is a writer in Pittsburgh, PA. Her short stories and poetry have appeared in publications including Contrary Magazine, Flash: The International Short Story Magazine, Ping-Pong Literary Journal, Menacing Hedge, Anti-heroin Chic, Scapegoat Review, and Rough Diamond Poetry. Twitter handle: @Laubham