The little Lady Tells

"Your Husband" They call him with smirks on their painful to look at “faces,” smirks, grins disguised as “we’re so happy for you” smiles Do they know this man is a stiff chain on my wrist, gravitates my hand away from what I can, but must not touch? His fingers spread sand in my eyes , I’m blind in bloody love Do they know this man is a grip on my bone, yielding away layers of my happiness, grain by grain? This man hit my cores, hid my calls. I’m just a wife in a cycle of chores, day to day Derrick, this my husband is a thorn on my skin, it hurts from deep within , but I mustn’t cry, salting my cheeks out I must resist, I must be a rare breed of all lifetimes I mustn’t desist his dance floor. My blackness must shine like leather, because all they know , I must be here forever, I must show up whenever Do they know I stand bent, shadowed under his squeeze? I am an exhausted car under lease But please, do they know I’m not going back, not getting that free girl spark back? But I am getting my spanks should I be less of a woman tonight All my tears soak in blankets, for tomorrow I must shine for this vulture. I must open my blind eyes to see his people. I’m going to smile at these crowds, culture clowns that got me a hacksaw of a man. He cuts me softly, pasting warmth onto his skin, leaving me broken into parts. Do they know,