Call me bitch? That I am, dear. That I am.
I wear it proud, like a medal. Say what I think and
do what I like. Swear and smoke and drink too much.
Love too deep and live too free. I am too
much for the tender likes of you, maybe.
Don’t matter what you think of me, only what I think of myself.
And lamb, I am fine, like a clear, hot, summer day,
like to burn you if you linger too long.
If you can’t take my heat, sweet one, best stay clear.
Go back to your cold little life. Stand away from my flame.
Don’t be looking at my tight pants and rich breasts
and thinking you need
to change me, to tame me, to shame me.
No shame here, none at all.
And I don’t need none of that shit you are trying to sell.