First Fell

You think you know sacrifice? I loved you, it’s what I was made to do; true soul mates, created to live in harmony for and with each other. Or at least I thought. We invented, “Til Death Do Us Part”, but you always feared Him more than you loved me. Our Almighty Father who art in Heaven and cursed be my name, the wicked seductress who blinded you from blessed light. You are far too cherished to fall on your own and all too familiar with the wiles endowed in my feminine heart. He breathed you into existence, molded you with his very hands! I was a mere addition, a piece broken from your ribcage, made to please you. The beta; the inferior; mere property destined to fail where you would succeed. Yes dear, I did pluck the forbidden fruit. I brought it to my lips, its succulent juices bit my tongue and I opened my eyes face to face with Evil herself. But I was not afraid! She whispered truth after truth, her mouth tasted of wine and dread and she told me of a life without your body on mine. You think I was corrupted? I wanted to know the flavor of humanity! And let me tell you: that shame, that lust, that knowledge tasted sweeter than Paradise! She was my true love, the first to choose freedom from man but that wretched tree bloomed bright and your need for control overshadowed my newfound light. You were His first, a ruler of Earth, the one who drove the Divine Messengers to jealousy. Wouldn’t you know better? Do not play innocent when you are the curse! You told Him, our Hallowed Creator, that I tricked you. You fabricated a tale of a cruel siren singing enticements to sin. Poor Son of God! How did our fate plummet to this? Our genesis was doomed! Because of your powerlessness we fall together so at least you still have some authority. I wanted to leave. I wanted to LIVE! You blame me for our exodus while your knife stops the blood from pouring down my back! You toil the land and sweat under the sun while I was made to suffer under your rule instead of mine. You turned poison like that apple and you chased my evil consort away. God’s destined me with the tax of birth and you’ve destined your daughters to pain. But we will not lie victim any longer. His kingdom come, His will be done! Darling we both played roles in His rejection and we both survived. You may be the King of the Earth but to me, dear Adam, you are the King of the Dirt and I am the Queen of Life.

I’m Fine

An excerpt from my upcoming novel, Unremarkable Woman

I realize now that the idea of a cure or any kind of help wasn’t for me but for all those I had inconvenienced with my despair. These tiny white pills were made to shut up the monster in my head but it does not stop the terror or the mania. It does not calm any turmoil. It only masks it, hides it, shoves it down my dry throat. I feel Demon’s cruel tongue just at my ear whispering so seductively the many ways I am failing, the many ways I am worthless, the many ways I am going to die. And the people in the white coats with their concerned wrinkled foreheads aren’t feigning comprehension to comfort my trembling body. No. They are pretending this and that to buy time for the worried mother in the waiting room, the sister who would surely be upset had she known the truth, the father stuck in denial, and the friends burdened with my poisoned tears and blotchy skin.

Now, in order to alleviate their suffering, my jaw is clenched tight, aching and sore as though it were sloppily wired shut. My tongue has died with painful pinched sides suctioned between tight teeth because I cannot get it out, I cannot force any semblance of a person to the surface. The tension in my head has only magnified in an enclosed space. Instead of being able to express my anguish I just sit and watch as darkness swirls behind my closed eyes. I can still see her. I can see Demon watching me in the mirror, reminding me that it isn’t all in my head like they think. It’s real. And it’s happening to me. Now I feel exposed to it, raw and waiting for the nuclear strike, the big crescendo of this Empty. I can’t let it out anymore. My bones itch like a fever, like they are allergic to the skin they are cloaked in. I pull and twist until it is bruised and rosy to distract from the strings tied to the nerves in my brain. I can feel them being pulled and manipulated, like a puppet or some kind of cruel trick. I stand at the porcelain sink and stare at the sunken in face looking back asking her to just cry, scream, puke, do something with strength! I have been tricked. They stole my evocation and my mind. I am a zombie so they can be comfortable. I wish it made me sick. But my alarm sounds.

“4:30 p.m.: Take your pill.” So instead I swallow another and smile. I am fine.