Billie, You, and I

Billie-
if it wasn't for my own
calvary
an ugly blot
that stained my long
lost youth;
if it wasn't for that
private hell
( one you'd understand
all so well)
I might never have heard of you-
or not at such an early age,
years later perhaps,
through my reading
or from television,
possibly from a jazz 
afficianado friend...

But circumstances being
as they were,
you and I, we walked the same grounds...
( though it was years apart
of course)
Billie, we belong to a long line
of women banished
bearing Eve's folly
or was it- fall?
Tokyo Rose, you, me-
and it was there,
where I met
Squeaky Fromme
and Liz Chagra
there, that I first heard
of you.

It was not much later that
I learned to love the blues
for I know all women live them
whether villainess or waif
whore or victim
witch
or wife...

And because God never gave me
the gift of song
I didn't turn to music,
like you,
( like so many others)
No,
I write...
Still,
I understand the need,
the catharsis
( dissassociation at times)
that comes from all art,
the " meaning"
in creation; of producing
something beautiful,
worthy
interesting...

And Billie,
though we seem
so very different-
world's apart
we share a link
it's the link of some
women
( though some are called
cold and calculating)
I speak of those
wronged and misunderstood
defiled, then labeled... 
Thankfully, some can still find a spark
regrettably, many as yours
are too soon extinguished...
Yet,
my hope is with-
the women and girls
striving
those who remain
may their spark glimmer
brightly-
burn
ever
unhindered.