The Hallie and Jordan Masterworks

Chapter IX: Hit me Daddy one more time. Oh baby baby.

Darkness consumes me
That dress becomes you
But that was so long ago
And now it’s over.
I wallow in the sad laundry room of your disdain
Whirl away washing machine!
You can whirl away the grass stains
The blood stains
The tear stains
The ravioli stains—
But never the pain stains.
No, not even Tide could tidy that mess.
That’s there to stay
That’s there to—
Lonliness
I find myself alone
Wrapped up in memories
Memories that enthrall me
Memories that enflower me
Memories that devour me—
The way I devoured your lips
In the hall pantry
Next to the Cheez-its
Below the Oreos
On top of the Gushers
I gushered all over
And you had to clean it up.
What will we tell Daddy?
Daddy.
That dark cloud of a man
That hovers above me
Scattered showers of a nightmare throughout the day
Misery storms in the evening
100 percent chance of abuse
1 percent chance of survival.
Daddy, look at me now!
A hollow shell of a man just like you!
A macaroni noodle of a man if you will!
The cheese is powder
And I threw it away by accident.
Why can’t I throw YOU away?
Why can’t I—
Pour favor Maria, save my soul
Save my tiles from collecting mildew
Save my heart from collecting dust.
Save my heart—
The window beckons me
Like you beckoned me,
Bending over the bathroom floor
In your homemade frock.
The frock of your temptation
The frock of your seduction
The frock of your sweet bossoms
The frock of your firm gluteus—
The noose whispers to me
Like you whispered to me
Softly into my ear like a secret
Softly into my brain like a subliminal message
Softly into my heart like angina
“El gato es en tu pantolones”
I didn’t know what it meant
I didn’t know—
I’m still not really sure.
But I know this, Maria.
From the smoldering ashes of despair
I will rise like a phoenix
I will rise like a person on a ladder
I will rise like a butter-crème soufflé.
The recipe is not quite right,
But it is mine.
And as sure as I know
That 1 cup of strength
2 tablespoons of redemption
3 teaspoons of self-worth
and a dash of peprica
Can mend a broken heart,
I am sure that one day
This man will be the cheesiest
Noodle of Easy Mac
This world
Has ever tasted.
And it will say,
Mmmmm.

End.