I don’t want to end up
like I started: dependent,
naked, eyes sealed shut. Because,
they weren’t kidding—whether
Electra or Oedipus, we do end up
marrying one parent or the other.
Because I don’t trust myself—
I can barely resist the dark draw
of your skin and your smell,
when the air moves just right.
Because wondering where you are
while I sit alone
isn’t how I pictured things.
Because every day at work
I tell women all the reasons
they deserve to stand up for themselves
and I won’t be a hypocrite. Because,
as you were asking me to believe you
after the first slip-up, you were
crossing fingers, looking for chances.
Because, as you were forgetting my worth,
I was remembering.
© BARB REYNOLDS
Published in Voice of Eve, Issue 4 2018
This poem may not be reproduced without the author’s permission.