Bring out a straight jacket, binding to another, tied down with wedding fever, temperatures at one thousand years of slavery. Falling so quickly like rose petals off of their dying host, walking into their shower, covered in the death of hundreds. Trying to impress all those who said no, as well as those who lied and said yes.
Bring out the pills to get through, swallowing pieces of soul never to resurface. Lying white gowns, defacing an idea of purity, which has long ago disappeared. Using a corkscrew to force open two hearts, drinking until it becomes almost natural to smile.
Pressing twisted bodies together, fitting together like pieces of separate puzzles.
When did it happen, the atrocity of expected union. When did it become a cultural expectation to sell body, heart, soul and mind?