i wanted to explain to you
why we couldn't be together
but i knew it would come out wrong
and i'd ruin everything we had
we had a lot
my mother was a catholic
she hauled me to church every sunday
and forced me to sing the hymns
or else i'd get a spanking
she had the belt stashed in her purse
it was leather
we often went to fancy dress stores
and bought dresses
that looked like cow vomit
but was the equivalent to the price of diamonds
i didn't complain
i didn't want my butt cheek to feel leather
it didn't feel good
so i sang the hymns
and blessed our food
and attended every church bake sale
if my mother knew
about us
i'd not only feel leather
i'd eat it, too
and leather doesn't taste like butterfingers.
YOU ARE READING
It's Not Like I Planned It This Way (Watty Awards 2013)
PoetryIn the midst of a world that disagrees with everything you do, Florence struggles to figure out who she and what her purpose in life is when a deathly accident occurs. As she is in limbo, or so she thinks, she reminisces on the good and the bad of h...