Hello Kitty BAND-AID

I used to crawl professionally 

a Hello Kitty BAND-AID upon an 

imperiled knee (the other equally 

as sore though I must each night determine 

which one hurts more.)  One, it’s pretend,

a useful accessory in schoolgirl 

fashion to compliment plaid I twirl in

five inch platform heels, mean, green, neon world. 

Two, it means I’m not what I seem — virgin,

newbie to this topless scene but veteran

despite my pigtails, wounded wolf, sheepskinned.

Imagine entrails of many strange men 

to which I weekly, meekly, wounded, crawl

instead of a slightly used naive fuck doll. 

Kristin Garth is the author of seventeen books of poetry including Flutter Southern Gothic Fever Dream, The Meadow and Candy Cigarette Womanchild Noir.  She is the Dollhouse Architect of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and has a weekly sonnet podcast called Kristin Whispers Sonnets.  Visit her site Kristingarth.com and talk to her on Twitter @lolaandjolie