Day Twenty Four.

24 Apr

Payless Shoes

Do you have these shackles in my size?
Yes, I am going to a special event, thank you for asking.
And I really do prefer to be encumbered by shiny
insecurities, self-doubt, and plenty of personal psychological
poison.

Ma’am? Make sure they will be tight around my feet?
Really tight; and a little sparkly,
too, for the man that will come in my life.
A woman with sparkly shackles on her own feet?
Please—it’s romance heaven.

Hon? I will need accessories, too.
I’ll take a few specific chains for my wrists:
self-hatred, sabotage, venom directed to those
of my own gender (because you know we can’t be
trusted), and unnecessary blame, because, well,
you can’t go to this particular event without a scapegoat.

Right?

No bag for me, dear.
I intend to walk out of here with these things on,
and I certainly intend on turning heads.
But can you please help me to my destination?
I can’t walk.

It’s just in that corner over there, yes,
in that windowless room.
It’s a beautiful, dark corner, isn’t it? I made it myself.
Perfect.
Yes, just close that door and be sure to lock it.

Now.

Life begins!

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