It affects her:
The calls, the messages, the smirks, the frowns, the curses, the white lies, the missed phonecalls, the skipped dates, the whistles, the hoots, the whispers, the stares, the anger, the harsh truths, the words they use to describe a human being that just happens to have a little extra **** to her body, the comments that come from those of the same *** about a body that could be perfect but why bother if there's no one to be perfect for?

It affects him:
The blank stares, the condescending voices, the cheers, the tears, the jeers, the insults, the absent father, the oblivious mother, the useless job, the harrowing boss, the old flame, the aches, the pain, the fact that he can't seem to make things work right when it could benefit him, the assumptions by them that he should be strong enough to carry the burdens of 12 others plus his own.

We need our girls to be smart but not so much that they become overconfident
We need our men to be strong and tears are meant for boys
We want our girls to be pretty
We want our boys to be handsome
We want our girls to understand their role in society and that they must not cross an arbitrary line made by those who fear them
We want our boys to grow up and understand they must provide, provide, provide and if they don't it's a sign of weakness
We want our women to provide children but oh no no no they must not work, where is the father?
We want and expect our men to be fathers to children, but not the ones born out of wedlock
We want, want, want but never ask our children anything because while we've strived hard to help their brains grow
we don't actually want them using that knowledge

We oppress our own people
And wonder why we see little success.

Changed my number in the morning
Broke my records on the floor
Laced my fingers through his hands
Pulled the latch and locked the door

Fell in love with a name, not a number
Asked where he lived, he answered "On the shore"
Left my inhibitions back in the tundra
All night long he kept me begging for more

Sent me roses laced with arsenic
Gave him pinches full of pain
Slept beside him barely breathing
It seemed I was stuck in this silly game

Took my freedom but showed me love
Held my hands to keep me tame
I wasn't lonely, not with him
Life would never be the same

1.** black coffee

lipstick stains I always have to clean,
not from mugs
but
from his shirt collars when I forget the cream
“Two creams babe. Why is it so
******* hard to remember two creams?”
I don’t have an answer so
I continue to scrub the lipstick stains and
swear I’ll get it right
He’s messing up worse, no one is keeping count
So I swear I’ll get it right

2. wrinkled shirt sleeves

my favorite time is
in the morning before he’s up
when I get to take time and iron his works clothes
Today is not one of those times
He’s up early, and he’s risen irritated
He has a meeting
he told me, I needed to wake him up early
I forgot
He grabs his shirt and pants
whining incessantly about the shirt sleeves
I missed them because I was
not finished
He doesn’t care, “You’re worthless, so why should I be surprised?”
I don’t leave the bathroom all day

3. dog-eared pages

sometimes,
he has to “work late”
and I get time to myself
I’ve been reading a memoir about Vivaldi
I flip to find the most recently creased page
and settle into the soft couch
He thinks it is ridiculous and childish
that I don’t use a bookmark
I told him it makes the books
just that much more personable
He isn’t one for sentiment so
he laughs
and asks if I want him to pick me up one on his way back from work
I don’t say yes, but I don’t say no either
The bookmark he bought me
makes a really nice
coke liner

4. ivory piano keys

when I was younger
before the addiction
I played piano
In the basement of my great aunts
four story Victorian
sat the most elegant baby grand
it was out of tune, and dusty
but that never stopped me
from clunking out thunderous melodies
and driving the cats insane
now, in the emptiness of this apartment
I dream of that piano
it’s long white keys and low, low seat
I hear its music
never a note right but
it never sounded sweeter

5. crooked lip liner

“we’re going to be late to the banquet, babe.”
erratic nodding, yes yes yes I know but
I’m shaking again
he knows why he always he knows
“I need more.”
I don’t say of what, he knows
there’s no time is what he tells me
I know that but
god, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears
ragged breath and it feels like my skin wants
to be separate from my body
I hate when I’m like this
he’s so responsible
I hate him
fingers twitching and teeth itching
red lip liner was such a bad idea
I don’t bother filling it in neatly
if I’m to play the role
of cracked out wife
well goodness, I must look it
he doesn’t lay an eye on me all night
whispers let me know
if the people aren’t aware, they’re guessing
I don’t bother to uphold
one semblance of normalcy
knock back one glass of the
fancy bubbly champagne
the shaking subsides
knock back a second
my vision no longer whirls
the drunker I get
the more normal I feel
my outward appearance is a mess
but
I feel good inside