"What's the world for you if you can't make it up the way you want."

-Jazz, Toni Morrison


What is this?
Can’t I watch Netflix instead
of craving your sugar and salt.

 Your timid fingers, off tempo
Resting in my shade, my
unfiltered shine. 

Can you remember running through the street?
crawling through the drainage pipe.
That freedom
Me, hair loose
Shorts damp from runoff and you
telling me to watch my step

 Don’t be a pussy,
Catch up with me already.
This world is out
for me, my uterus, my 
hourly wage.
You have nothing to fear
Me. The one who
has to give it all
for you to be a man.

 Patience is my dowry
My status, a feast
raw and roasted on my flame.
Don’t walk away
because this bitch won’t stay. 
Never lingering long
for a flickering and fickle 

 The world is handed 
to you, not me.
Best to try harder 
before I move on to the next one 
who knows fire needs air.

Caitlin McGillicuddy lives and writes outside of Boston. Her work has appeared in McSweeney’s, Gravel, HerStry, the Black Fox Literary Magazine and Bitchin Kitsch. She’s a writer in residence at L'ATELIER WRITERS and is at work on her first novel. Twitter: @CaitlinMcGill, Website: caitlinmcgillicuddy.com

Cut the Crust

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