I think I live a different life—
I watch as each of my friends
Inherit yards of white tulle
And promise themselves
To men who build homes
Around them.
They giggle about rings
And love
And children
And I can’t help it
They just seem so fickle.
/
I think I live a different life—
Life’s backwards gift to me,
Supposedly pittance for a broken heart,
Is a broken stomach
A broken uterus
/
I think I live a different life—
Hugs are an abundant currency
In households that aren’t my own
Where children don’t stare
At a chief whom they don’t even know
Eyes wide at the things said flippantly
Where walls aren’t daily torn down
People torn down
Hearts torn down
Like trellises in an overgrown garden
/
I think I live a different life.
Amanda Michelle Brown 