Baby boy, I am the queen of the night out
wide smile, stay a while
wake up in an alleyway with the lights out –
I am craic in the gaelic way
dancing on the bar, you thinking I’m a star
until I start to sway –
Away from your hips and down to the floor
we were laughing but you’re not sure
If I’m alright anymore –
And I –
I am coronated somewhere between vomit and assault:
a queen demoted to a body in the moat
But I –
I am the queen of the night out.
And honey, I won’t shout –
I won’t shout that alcohol is tantamount to consent to you
When I – passed out – end up in your bed with you
And you bought – how many rounds? – you think I owe you
I owe you?
Do I owe you?
What we forget about queens is ultimately they’re slaves
to their kings and monarchy and olden days
Given away with dowries, dressed up in pansies
and walked off, smiling and naïve, to the chopping block
But I –
I am the queen of the night out
I am glitter and festivals and dark stories I try to make funny
I am not the girl that you will take home to mummy
Because you know, you know she won’t approve of me
I am more transgressive Magdalene than the first Mary
but boy, let me pour you some tea:
What your darling mummy sees in me
Is the bits of her that she buried in the dirt down deep
In confession boxes and forgive me fathers
But fuck your forgiveness – I’ve lived this harder
than last rites and cold nights
And hungover days and bar fights
Because I –
I did not get this crown the easy way; my Roman empire was not built in a day
And I am sorry, but you do not get a say how my traumas manifest in my day to day
So, in the meantime, I demand to be seen
So, save your judgement boy, and bow to your queen.