Little Girl Wife
White whispers to me
his sense of love.
He came to me,
hand on my breast
and whispers in my ear.
It was not natural,
it was not normal
to see the man that you would marry for the first time under such conditions.
was a chain
to keep me down
was filled with antiques
who roamed across the brown carpet
and up the white-blue walls
as though they were insane with jealousy over their master's loyalty toward me.
I wanted to die
I wanted to scream.
This is not for me
this is not what I want.
He must have mistook my politeness
when I allowed him to sit beside me.
He must have taken my words as an invitation
when he kissed my lips hard
for yet again another set of lies to control me.
He must have taken my desire to see the world
and live within the lust of it all
only for him and this little house filled with cats.
His white skin whispered to me
from the silky flesh that was all over me after dinner.
On the couch
on the porch.
"Its a beautiful night."
I wanted to evaporate
fall into a puddle of liquid at his feet
I wanted to be free of his hands
I wanted my pen
to solidify my intensions and make them clear this time.
Daughter she called me,
daughter I was not.
where's my pen?
where's my paper?
I never leave home without them.
I was trapped
his mouth on mine
his hand in my pants.
I don't know how I got so deep in here
how my hands
only moments ago were alone
with this custom
of the old ways.
At that moment I wanted to chop my long hair off
and say to hell with tradition
like the nomads my people once were.
I could never be a wife to this boy
or a daughter to that woman.
are never afforded to a girl such as myself.
To young to break away
to old to start anew.