I used to fantasize
about the life I used to want –
well, always wanted.
Yet, I could never visualize with my own eyes.

I was the thoroughbred.
Satin panties with a bedazzled asscrack.
The day I ate that holy bread —
in my mouth, Jesus’ sack.

Marriage.
–
But they forgot to build the carriage.
Self-love and confidence — never taught,
but to be on the prowl to be bought.
Young and dumb — my husband, the savage.
… just like my dad.

You taught me that my worth would one day sag.
Old and decrepit, who would look at this hag?
Without a will to learn new skills,
off I go to drink a bottle of pills.

For one day, he would divorce me.
He’d start fucking under forty!
You’d find me at the drive-thru line
all because my dreams — I never gave time.

With the flip of a switch
(and that dildo purchase)
Oxytocin — has my family’s words dismissed.
Thirty-three. Single. Orgasms. Bliss —
not cleaning up shit or piss.

The disconnect from what I had.
The connection to what I need.
The universe planted the seed.
The will to grow watered — pain needed to bleed.