I was born to have a wedding

I was born to have a wedding

 

Trained from mother’s womb to the musty aisle of the church

 

To cross my legs when I sit

 

And to smile for the boys who will whisk me away

 

To my big white extravaganza.

 

It’s my last day, to be alive I mean.

 

I’m one part mom and one part dad.

 

But tomorrow I’m all him.

 

I’m him in the bank, on the street

 

To everyone I meet.

 

My legs are his to uncross 

 

And my pearly teeth are for his eyes only.

 

Now I’m afraid

 

Because for words, I’m at a loss

 

Because my words are his words

 

But none of his are mine

 

And if my legs can’t open 

 

And my lips cannot kiss

 

That’s where he draws the line.

 

That’s when I’m thrown in solitary.

 

And he comes yelling, “This isn’t the girl I meant to marry.” 

 

So I beg and I cry and soon I’m down on my knees

 

But he can’t hear “I’m sorry” and “please”.

 

Maybe it was 2 years ago when I said, “I do”

 

A vow is a promise meant to fade with time.

 

Maybe it was 3 years ago when I said, “Yes.”

 

A ring clenches the finger until it is numb.

 

Maybe it was 5 years ago when I said, “It’s a date.”

 

I could have said, “ I can’t”

 

I should have said, “Sorry, but no thank you.”

 

I should have left.