The Whistle and the Blow

Irene, oh Irene. You’ve come with a whistle and you left with a roar.
You kept me holding on. For just one more bite, just one more bark.
You snapped and you whipped and you rained upon with hell from above.

You tired me. Oh no, no, no. I tired you, I meant to say.
Please forgive my ignorance. See, it’s just this shit you deal.
It’s always cards of Jupiter and agonizing pain.

I choose the sturdiest I can find to fit my mold. The withered but unbroken roads.
The happy to be who and what. With every flaw that burns within them. With every flaw they came to already know.