I freeze
My smile says, you got me again but inside, your words have gutted me,
Like walking into a room full of Simon Cowells,
And losing my voice
Yes, in fact
You took my voice from me
This game we play where we both bear our fangs for alpha-female in our sick, twisted trio
But the difference is this
I do not make the haughty stabs that you inflict upon others
Flicking your tongue like a silver blade, and I, your waiting victim,
Am here, readily awaiting your torture because I don't know how to make other friends
So I let the violence continue
Maybe my ex was right about you
Maybe you're the reason why if it weren't for my hemophobia, my wrists I would slice,
But pills suffice
My smile says, you got me again.

-E (c) 2017

Why can't you just be normal?
That doesn't make any sense.
You can't be serious. Your life really isn't that bad.
Okay, well what would you like me to do?
You don't need medication, the doctors are just trying to push it on you to make money.
Okay, well then I'll get counseling.
That costs money too, how are you going to pay for it?
They have free stuff at the college-
Only poor people go there, they won't actually care about talking to you.
Okay.

Why are you mad?
Why are you crying?
Why are you ruining dinner?
What the ****, Ella?
You're not your mom, Ella.
You're so ******* stupid, do you know that?
Huh, do you?
They're just trying to use you.

You're paying, and I'm taking you home.
You're ******* crazy, you know that?*

-E (c) 2017

the first thing people would say upon our engagement is show me the ring like some bling is an ode of your love to me. i am not a homemaker i am a homebody. i excel in colombian coffee and monday night pub specials and cheap wine with expensive labels. i excel at being one of the guys and by being one of the guys i mean not being your wife. i filled the crevices you scraped in me like some kind of sculptor smoothing over past mistakes like being your wife was some kind of placebo pill i can sweat out with half-empty pizza boxes and grease stains on a couch that was never mine. when i first tell people about us about what i've done they say
but you two fit so well
but i liked you together
but you were going to get married
but but but
but they don't see your knuckles almost shaking hands with my jawline or the time i stared at you deadpan i'm not scared of you and i think that's what scared you that i'm no battered wife that i'll take you all bleed you dry then smile from the corner.
i am no battered wife like the woman who raised you
whose christmas-gifted blanket i'm currently curled under but whose 4 a.m. whispered words i cherish more he can't make you forget what you felt like your lies would forge me into the bat **** crazy ***** you christened me but what i felt in your *****-stained breath amaretto-sweet words ice-diluted eyes was i am no battered wife
i am no laying next to you in bed at 30 with kids i couldn't convince myself to want and bruises that fit your fingers on my ribs. i'll take my tuesday tequila and too-loud laughs, my scrounging for quarters for just one more cup of coffee over your stability smirks.

i see myself:

a
little tiny girl,
tear stained, broken..
.
pressed up against a glass
window that some might
call
a mirror,

and
submerged like a castle
in a fish tank, i
watch the way
that
little me swims
above
pretty little rainbow beads
and
picks at affection,
somehow
dropped from
the sky..
.

its
blue, pink, and
green;
and
there's a face in the clouds:

like rain, i
cry. looking down at
what once was..
.

and i remember why
that little girl
died.

I found myself hugging my closet this morning
I got up, walked over to her, stood in front of her and stuck my hands between some things hanging,
Put my cheek against the cold plastic of the hangers, and it felt right

Now this sounds strange
But something became quite clear to me when I felt like my closet was hugging back
It's not the things you wear, it's how you wear them
My closet loves me because I wear my clothes freely
I never wore them to please anyone else
That's why when he told me he wanted me to wear something else I said, "No."
Because my fashion is a part of me and it has been
Whether I was in the fourth grade, wearing my lily pad skort, pink Mary Janes and a neon green top
Or in college,
Unapologetically sporting my baggy white tee, ripped jeans, Birkenstocks and socks
I will not submit to you

My clothes love me back because I am not afraid
My closet hugs me back because she knows that I will never again let a man tell me
"That's ugly."
My fashion is my power.
Let it ring from every tower, you will not tell me what I can put on this body ever again
My body is my temple, and it was not built on your land so you can
Shove it

-E (c) 2017

She whips me down
And drags me round
She roars like thunder
And my freedom is plunder
She spits and seethes
And still nothing pleases

And so I’ll leave
For she will not relieve
The torrid strain I am under
In this oh so monstrous dismal blunder
I’ll succumb to a sweet sleep
And I know you won’t weep
As I end my stay
Besides, who could dismay?