Whatever came after, evaporated in the afternoon sun.
All I hear is the ringing of your words…
“You are such a Bitch when”… pause, replay.
Pause, replay the words crushing my spirit…
Pause, replay as you justify letting it slip through your lips.
“YEAH, you said that out-loud” cuts the air.
Pause, rewind – add the background sounds of daily life: cats screeching, lights humming, TV flickering – moments before his words bored holes –focus, replay.
Menial requests with ridiculous reasons subdivides my focus: can you get my glasses, can you get my flashlight, can you find my security –try not to lose the words.
Its dark – my attention is elsewhere – this time your demand takes flight.
“Bitch” is a Weapon!
–used to destroy what isn’t controlled;
–creating wounds impossible to heal;
–hoping to stifle any retaliation;
–designed to strip me of my power;
“Bitch” stops hiding behind your reactionary temper-tantrum, sword in hand.
Pause, replay… “Wait, this is how you see me? When did I become less than? Why distance me, then betray me with ‘Bitch’? Because I won’t let you interrupt me?”
Pause, replay… “Hey, your misogyny is showing you knuckle dragging cave dweller, Pause, replay… “Lady Bits are NOT profane or degrading because berating women is a hobby for some. Didn’t realize it was your hobby though”…Pause.
Stop. “Well you’re a Dick for no reason at all most days,” suppressing the urge to rename you, “so don’t ever call me a bitch again unless you want her released.”