I confuse lust for love
Mistranslating tight holds and neck kisses as signs he chose me
That he wants me, not just wants me
My lust, i just want your love

I was there all the time, while you were gone
One day you were there, the next day, gone
Everything was going good
So I never understood what went wrong
I never understood what I did so wrong
Because one day you were there
And the next day; bright, and early, gone
I never understood how another girl
Became your "number one"
Things started to turn south
When I noticed you were gone more
You'd make sure you were always quiet
When you managed to make your way home
And came through the door
Quiet as can be, so you didn't wake me up
Because you didn't want me to know
That you were actually out after work
With some girl who had a baby
Which made you look like a creep
How could you hit me below the belt, so deep?
You went and wandered the streets
Looking for someone else to satisfy
You and your petty selfish needs
You were playing house with someone else
Giving someone else the attention I was supposed to get
Not even caring to ask how I even felt
You hit me in the face one, slapped rather
That was a one time thing, not a big deal or matter
Because you hit me in front of my mother
And she told you point blank
"If you're going to hit my daughter;
You need to take a breath and really think"
And then I chimed in with;
"It's okay because if he ever tries or does it again;
I'll go to jail for breaking his **** hand."
The audacity this fool think he had
Cheated on me because I can't have kids
And he apparently wanted to be a dad
All you had to do was say something to me
That's something I would have come to understand
But instead you became unfaithful and left me sad
I really had feelings for you because I became obsessed
Starting going to work with you
And sitting in your vehicle for 8-12 hours like I was possessed
You drove me so crazy I didn't know what else to do
Then one day it all became clear
I wasn't needed anymore here
So I left, and never looked back.

Stephanie A. Ludwig
04/25/2025

I told the doctor
my heart felt like a flip phone
set to vibrate
in the back pocket of my jeans—
buzzing between spine
and tenth-grade desk,
shaking my bones
like a train no one saw coming—
except me.

I could feel my pulse
gathering its coat, like it had somewhere to be.
He said I was within diagnostic range.
He said I was presenting as stable.

I said I felt like a girl
screaming
inside a library.

They said:
What a beautiful metaphor.
I said:
It’s not a metaphor.
It’s a girl.
She’s in there.
She’s still screaming.

And they nodded,
said I seemed self-aware—
like that settles that.

They wrote “no cause for concern”
in my file.
The room was quiet.
The library was loud.

My heart is still vibrating.
I feel it—
right there, between spine and desk.

No one picks up.

I miss being cherished by you
Saying to you I love you too
Falling asleep to you breathing
Being the first I talk to in the morning

I wonder what your doing now
I wish to hug you somehow
But all I feel is an ache in my chest
But to be loved by you I was truly blessed

I think of us when I lay in bed
And all the sudden I feel your warmth spread
But it’s not the same and makes me miss you more
I wish you would know it’s you who I cry for.

A stranger who doesn’t fit anywhere on Earth
Something about her skin
Too dark to be white
Not dark enough to be her heritage.

A girl whose skin is too light
Her hair not black enough
A girl wearing American clothes
Living the American way.

Little mixed girl
Who doesn’t even speak the language
Of her grandfather

Fake little mixed girl
Who talks about being Indian
To actually feel connected
To her culture

Yet, she knows it’s a lie
She doesn’t celebrate Diwali.
She doesn’t know traditions

Little mixed girl
Who isn’t ethnic enough
To get offended over slurs

Fake little mixed girl
Who knows her ancestors
Look down upon her
Whitewashed self
And feel nothing but shame.

Fake little mixed girl
Pretending to be something she’s not.

Psychiatrists quick to diagnose and medicate,
Throwing pills at problems without any fate,
But the more prescriptions they prescribe,
The more my thoughts become a blur,
and I can no longer decide.
I feel like a puppet on a string,
My own mind slipping further from being.
The drugs numb me,
my emotions, my thoughts,
Until I'm a shell, no longer the self I sought