one day aged fifteen or so
i realized i was alive
molecules twisted themselves
Dionysian about my brain

and there was violence in my veins
beautiful violence

not the hateful violence of a fist or a blade
but that of a white sea
or the seething of the earth's yellow-red life blood
or the sun's rays piercing the sky's azure flesh
the convulsive beauty
of a red beating heart

my eyes were orbs of fire
heightened and powerful
yellow and red
flashes from the dawn of time

but you tell me this is wrong
that my scalded veins and my yellow-red eyes
are a crime
an act of rape inflicted on you.

why you ask would i want to have yellow-red eyes?
it can only be because i wish to be like you

you do not hear me when i tell you of my aliveness
you insist i am trying to be like you

it is unnatural, you say -
a girl should not have fire in her veins.

take out your yellow-red eyes you say
or my many brothers will kill you

they will spill the liquid fire
that runs in your veins
and make it their own
it is rightfully theirs.

i wish to keep that liquid fire
so i will consent to be blinded
but since i may not keep my eyes
i will tear out your cold and murderous ones.