I Do Not Believe in Marriage

“I Do Not Believe in Marriage”

but i will marry a man who sings lullabies to my stomach, right after I’ve had a big meal. a man who says, “how was your day?” and sounds like “remember i love you”. a man who helps me open jars after my hands are seconds away from bleeding because i’m too stubborn to give up. a man who beats me to the coffeemaker and always gives me the first cup. a man who knows when i’m angry, but will let me tell him on my own time. a man who knows just where to kiss me, so my body becomes a canvas of goose bumps. a man who can draw constellations with the freckles on my back. a man who knows when to be silent and when to be loud. a man who knows how to shake my father’s hand. a man who thinks children are adorable, but in no way wants to procreate. a man who will have my name on the tip of his tongue even when asking for coffee at starbucks.

i do not believe in marriage, but i will put pen to paper for a man who doesn’t believe in marriage, but wants to marry me because he knows he will in no way feel shackled. a man who loves my freedom enough to not call me “his”. a man who will never let me get bored.

I’m Always Afraid to Write of You

You sit across from me, watching, staring. I look away because you’re too much; unashamed in the way you want me. Eyes so full of me, I don’t need a mirror. Devilish grin that screams “Fuck me” and I’m eager to comply. But my body is afraid, pinned to the chair that separates us.

We play a little game. And I realize it’s all a game. Then I wonder, how long will it take for you to leave me? To realize you’ve had your fill and move on to the girl with the curly hair that dances salsa? I wonder, am I still an open book- You interrupt my thoughts, “What are you thinking?”

I do what I do best, lie the way he taught me to… without scratching myself or brushing my hair back. You won’t even notice. And God, it’s nice to have some things that are mine. To have insecurities and doubts that I can keep, bleeding on the palms of my hands. For once, I am alone.