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.