So Delicious

The first time, just before she ran away

she had to make sure he was sleeping

and he was, with a little smirk on his face

She noted no recent stink from the ashtray

And the coke bag, licked clean


When she checked again in an hour

he was in the same position

still smiling

later she would say

he only hit her once that evening

and be corrected by her therapist

in fact he knocked her down

then hit her second and third times

when she was on the ground


But anyways, that was the night

she first ran away, her cloth black flats

hit the pavement until the soles wore thin

they were destroyed by the time

she arrived at her brother’s apartment

and requested money for a bus ticket

Her little backpack only filled with

almost everything she needed


He sent bouquets to her parents’ houses

unsure of where she was staying

so when she called them, they said

oh he can’t really  be that bad,

can’t you give him another chance?

She imagined black orchids

in a vomit filled vase


She only tried a restraining order

once, and this, her therapist

never corrected her on

because it was such a vivid memory

when the young, white cop

asked her for all his information

including his birthday

she remembered murmuring

“Yes, of course I know the date,”

and being so struck dumb

by the question


the balloons she remembered

as multicolored during those

celebrations and the cakes

over the years

had sometimes been

so delicious

that she could

no longer bring herself

to report him

9 thoughts on “So Delicious

    1. Ugh, Thank you! I don’t often write about this period in my life because its not easy, so i really doubly appreciate it ❤

  1. “She imagined black orchids

    in a vomit filled vase”.

    Even though it was a long time before I could speak up, when I did, I was instantly believed. As charming as HE was, they believed me. So when I read this it made me SO angry for you.

    Despite the subject matter, I love these lines. I totally, totally get this. X

    1. This comment made me re-publicize my blog after becoming emotionally exhausted and privatizing-you reminded me of the good part of sharing experiences like this through poetry. Thank you

      1. I’m glad it made you rethink. You, more than anyone I know, should be visible and writing your truths. You’re worth twenty-gazillion arseholes, Georgia. X

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