Election Day, 2018

Maybe I am such a nasty woman,

because I believe that we all deserve to feel safe living our lives to the fullest,

regardless of race or gender identity.

Because I believe that we all deserve equal opportunities,

regardless of what kind of family you were born into.

Because I believe that we all should have the right to marry whomever we want,

regardless of what they identify as.

Because I believe in a woman’s right to choose,

no matter what the circumstances are.

Because I’ve witness firsthand the effects of toxic masculinity,

and the double standards applied to women.

This nasty woman will take a stand,

because my whiteness makes it easier than some to do so.

This nasty woman will fight.

And most importantly,

this nasty woman will vote.

Part two.

I’d ripped you out from under my skin,
purged myself of every ounce,
every drop of what I felt for you.
The cravings had finally stopped,
my heart no longer hurt,
and your memory was fading.
But here I am,
with wide amber eyes,
right back at the beginning.
Another taste of being understood,
of talking in circles,
and making perfect sense.
Another taste of your thick sarcasm accent,
paralyzing eyes,
and thoughtful wit.
My soul has been reignited,
but I can’t help but wonder,
how long until you leave again?

If you’re my worst addiction, then this relapse might kill me.