little red and her big bad wolf

little red riding hood
went out prancing through the wood
lord knows, she wasn’t up to any good
but man, you’d have been fooled
a single look at her
and i felt like i’d never be cool
someone told me she was her granny’s favorite drug mule
but she never was
anybody’s tool
never somebody’s jewel
respectively,
i let her rule
our decisions
incisions of her wild
with my mild
made it feel real
and her impurities
fed my endless insecurities
burning more bridges
than we could ever build
she told me
that she felt him watching us
in the field
i told her he probably saw
a small meal
she says his aura
was a bitter teal
little red whispers
that she can’t remember
how to feel

it was mid-october
and she couldn’t have been more sober
probably a bit hungover
when i told her she
was my four leaf clover
she looked through me
and mouthed
“come a little closer”
if i knew her
then she shared a dose of her
probably got scared
and thought he’d start to get close to her
i mean, to be fair
i’d never met anyone
easier to love

little red riding hood
strolled herself to a cliff
looked 20 feet down
and thought, “this’ll only
hurt a bit,
i’ve been so lonely
and today smells like shit,”
she rolled herself a bended spliff
lit that shit up
so she could get one last hit
sat herself down
and cried for a minute
the big bad wolf
smelt her tears
i heard he’d been following her for a year
he waltzed himself over
flashed his big teeth
at my four leaf clover
he offered her a ride
and little red was quick
to deny
and faster to oblige
he pried open his big jaws
and said, “baby, you know what i saw,
you look so timid
and sit so frigid,
come on girl, scoot over a smidgen,”
the big bad wolf
began to engulf
her head
with every heart felt lie
that his big tongue said
months went by
and she wished for no more
than his big eyes to be dead

december rolled in
directly after september
and the big bad wolf
begged red to surrender
everything she knew
and man her heart had never been so blue
her kaleidoscope eyes
stared into the sky
right through all of his lies
and she whispered into him,
“i’m afraid you’re a fool,
discipline crumpled
your pedestal
with ridicule
and emotionless words
and horny girls
eyes fascinated
on her twirl
now, come give me a whirl
describe love
to me
in a way that
i could achieve meaning
instead of screaming
hate
off a twisted tongue
that’s bled too much whiskey
and fought too much rum
but you’re no fun
and i’m afraid you’re just dumb
come touch me some,
and now, baby
i’m done,
trust me,
i’m not the one,
my tongue is tied
your lips are dry
we’re already high
but fuck it,
load another bowl,
god what i’d give
to knock you off your pedestal,
you think you’re so cool,
ironically of course,
demonically sourced
dna
i see it in your eyes
your mouth is closed
yet you’re screaming goodbye
push up the sky
before i kiss you one last time
tell me,
where do pretty hearts die?”
she gouged out his eyes
pondered on their goodbyes
and before she left
she realized
she’d been hypnotized

march came crawling in
and the big bad wolf
shared his big bad soul
again and again
and the big bad wolf
told her, “why i would love to love you,”
he flashed his big teeth
and the jagged ones were stained red
he patted her head
promised to tuck her in bed
little red riding hood
batted her eyes
and said, “darling, i think we’ll need
to compromise,”
her hand snuck in her basket
and retrieved a crooked knife
stared into the big bad wolf’s
big bad soul
as she plunged away
his crooked life
and as she felt
his heart grow pale
she bid him farewell,
whispered, “i reckon i’ll seeya in hell,”
because she could tell
his big bad eyes
had cast their
wicked spell

little red’s
eyes sat dead
caved into her cheeks
muttering, “man, life’s sure bleak
i figured it’d look up by
this week,”
forged a smile
into her stone face
somehow it seemed
so out of place
she acts like we’ll
never win this race
she says she still
can’t feel
i said this isn’t real
and little red spun
herself stories like a rolling wheel
and poof
nothing was her real

she isolated
and desecrated herself for months
and when she got back
her spine grew a hunch and
she drew herself air for lunch
and sipped her own tears
ignored all of my fears
vodka was her cologne
i always saw pin cushioned arms
when we were alone
her eyes pooled dread
i heard that she was dead
somehow death
sounded suiting
for my little red

little red riding hood
straightened her hair
because the smell of it
makes her more there
she laced up her boots
and drew a pentacle
on her forehead
some say she needs medical
help before she winds up dead
i said how typical
that they decide red’s pinnacle
she says she just needs a hit
to help her forget
all the agony
and irony
that’s been baked in grandma’s cookies

little red
sat in her bed
hands tearing apart her head
trying to get inside her skull
to understand
what made everything
so dull and
love sound so null
forgetfulness became business casual
heart burn
awaited her in an urn
lost and enchanted
with a
curse

little red riding hood’s
blood ran cold
as she bargained her soul
to some wrinkled bad man
who’d been demoted to her pedestal
–
now if i knew her
she gave the biggest dose of her
hoped he’d get too close to her
man, i imagine
we could’ve been closer
it was hard
trying to
love my four leaf clover

little red riding hood’s
tongue smelt like bleach
and sometimes she forgot
how to speak
or the week
and often the day
some would say she’d
mold like clay
and i hated the way
they spoke of
my red

little red riding hood
threw everything out
mouth so dry
it tastes like a drought
and iron
her teeth are red
and her hood is red
her hair is red
and her eyes are dead
black
and old
i told her, her soul is worth a platinum fountain
spitting out gold
she says it’s worth
a penny
and maybe some mold
that day it was ninety degrees
she said she’d never
been so cold

it was probably august
and red’s smile sat ever so modest
on her tired face
eyes sat glazed
her heart in a daze
body hunched in a ball
she looked like she’d hit the wall
last night she missed
every
single
one
of my calls
and i saw her crawl
from here to there
brown spiders sought refuge in her hair
i tried to look inside her
to see if she exists
she looked through me
and whispered, “is there anything
more than this?
i only wanted one sweet kiss
but he threw my heart
into the abyss
and i can’t escape
the emptiness,”
it appears that
my red
was caught in a
labrynth
so i reached out my hand
to pull her back to land
and my commands
hit like a grain of sand
falling back to a conscious demand
to touch the man
and i told her
man, i told her i loved her
and my four leaf clover’s
shoulders shuddered
like she never heard the words uttered
and her sweet lips
pressed into mine
as she muttered with time
“the only thing
that could ever love me,
is the smell of death,”
but man,
her breath soaked my tongue
with life

it was probably october
and i longed to grip my
four leaf clover
to sing a song
that’d never been wrote
and fuck dude,
she probably thought it was one big joke
she stopped checking in
quit talking again
i felt so alone
my hands pooled sweat
onto her granny’s phone
god she could have let me know
that she’d found herself
guilty
on mental death row
i wish i’d have loved her more
showed her how it felt to be adored
before she shot that
gas pedal through the floor board
before she got too bored
and she rode to her own grave
kept her head down
and her hands bound
becoming her own slave
mourning herself
when morning never came
quick enough
i said she was a diamond in the rough
red says it’s just her luck
to be so stuck in the mud and the muck
she says she’d never been good enough
i said that’s tough
because you see,
my red was more than enough for me

it’d been 2 long years
i still cry oil paint tears
and visit her grave
three times a week
leaving a petal
for every rose she never saw
and a medal
for ever race we could’ve won
man, i was convinced
that she was the one
but red’s the one that shot the gun
red’s the one who spoiled our fun
man.
red’s the one
she’ll always be my one

little red riding hood
lays 6 feet down
the city mourned
the loss of mein Frau
never seen such a crowd
or ever a cemetery so packed
i think it’s jacked
that nobody had her back
until she’d cracked
but i’m the only one
who’s tears coated the sky
who’s mouth sits wry
who forgot the words
to every fucking lullaby
they say she’s in a better place,
that she’d have never skid first in this race,
personally,
i say it’s a disgrace
to have lost such a pretty face
to self proclaimed faults
let’s act like adults
and look past all the salt
maybe her murderous assault
led her to her death
or maybe she still smelt the breath
of the wicked bastard who woved
her so well
little red riding hood’s soul
resides with the big bad wolves
in hell,
now,
i do bid thee
farewell

-bang-

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