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.

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

Direct and concise
Without mention
                  From father to daughter
To she who pounded his chest
To she who whispered don’t go
To she who wept across the county

Business like
                      Wills
Black and white
                      Bound in ribbons
                      Attached to the heart

With strings binding in knots
With words at hourly rates
With clauses omitting
                                                 I loved you x

Hot water lap dance
Feeling quite comfortable
Tide urges me onwards
Line fishes for something
Along edges of mountainous
Erupting horizons vapour dissolving
Passing clouds blue sky thinking
Revision of indignant existence
Not feeling much for a while
Pittance good riddance and guile
World revolving around the child
Locked inside away from myself
Disconnected coming up with plans
Sometimes prefer doing nothing
Just neglecting my health
That’s okay still alive to tell the tale
Now just need to execute in the name of sacrifice
Make the journey up to now worthwhile
For every moment of doubt and pain
Hope and distraught freedom
Despite the shame already
Would be even worse to waste
The opportunity have been given
So let the gift not be in vain

Gran kept a cloak and dagger
In the third drawer down
                   Out of bounds                             

Drawer one tablets consumables
Drawer two nylons man made fibers
Drawer four shoes liberty bodice

In-between the chemise
                                   And forgotten footsteps
Drawer three
Lonely as a secret
Burdened as an anchoress
                       Within paper folds verity slept
                       Certified registered
Name of father
Name of child

Maybe once to often she rolled
                                            Stocking to knee
Then danced a Charleston
With a partner from a speakeasy
        Did she go quayside to say goodbye
                                                  Or probably
Just borrow a name
From behind the bar of the Red Lion