I sit beautifully on his arm

A mix of silence and murmurs fill the room the second my heel makes contact with the marble floor

His mouth moves and I hear, “I love going places with you”

Initially my heart flutters and a shy smile spreads

Upon second thought, however, that smile fills with dread

Flashes of memories hit me like a train

I was never cared about, understood, or loved unconditionally

All he cared about was my size 2 body, big lips, long hair

I sit on his arm, posted up at my station

My dead smile widens as I become his perfect decoration

I can’t afford to leave, there’s too much at stake

If I make him mad, he won't talk to me for days

So I spend the night laughing, shaking hands, and receiving compliments, all of which are fake

I knew I wasn’t alone ,

the second I saw a husband refuse to allow his wife eat the cake

Pleasantries are shared and the night comes to an end

Staring at the ceiling, his snoring steady next to me, I realize,

I’m tired of being just a decoration