First was Neurotic Fake Woke Sadboi – nobody came and he refused to sell me weed when I wouldn’t have terrible sex with him again.
Next, the Self Obsessed Half-Livered Martyr – He talked about some tragic accident, in a practiced humble tone he went on about how he spent the nights saving lives, jack-hammered me like a blow-up doll and came within 30 seconds.
Then, there was Jesus of the Copperhead woods. He was older, strange, magical, and also insane and dangerous. Remodeling an abandoned house in the woods with scrap wood salvaged from dumpsters and construction sites. He sent me a picture of a mummified squirrel he found in the attic. His last wife left him and took her son. They ran away in the middle of the night. He wasn’t safe to love.
After that came, The Kind and Honest College Rapist. Who respected me in ways other partners hadn’t before. We shared an intimacy born from a mutual ache. He was gentle and solid, with deep brown eyes and serpents wrapping the length of his arms. He understood when I told him how your lies had twisted everything up inside me and chose to be honest about what he had done. Took off his mask; he had raped a girl in college. He didn’t refer to it that way at first but eventually called it by its name. I was too scared to leave so I waited til he fell asleep and ran away from him in the middle of the night. Like Jesus’ wife had done.
Jack Hawthorn is a human wildfire currently residing in Lawrence, KS. They spend their time sweating into the soil of various local farms and slinging books at the Raven Bookstore. They’re pleased to make your acquaintance and can be found @BrambleBanshee on Twitter.
Snarl 