Ann

she/her, dragon-dog she-devil

Who are you?

I'm a blade without a handle, sharp edges and slick steel. Hold me wrong and I'll gut you open. Handle me with care and I'm your well-honed weapon. Watch your step or you'll answer to me.

I'm that woman who takes "bitch" as a compliment and raises her head high; I know that my life is worth something. There's a jacket with my name on it hanging on my bedroom door, and it's got enough spikes to hurt someone as a way of showing outsiders that I'm safe to be around.

The True Name

A storm cloud, the sea in the sky,
the prickling of static on your arms,
pomegranates,
little red dresses and wineglasses,
bat wings folded down and away,
the crown held high;

a ragged battlejacket in a riot,
raised fists, a shout of red,
conviction and the scent of leather,
the pounding of blood in your ears
and smoke on your tongue.