Socks

Maybe this is an overreaction. I don't care. It's my reaction.

The boy looked at me when he wanted to, touched me when he wanted to, hurt me when he wanted to. I wasn't real to him--I was some cartoon character that didn't actually have feelings. The kind of feelings that would cause him to think twice about his actions.

No, I didn't have those kind of feelings. Not to him.

But the truth is, every one has those kinds of feelings. Even those cartoon characters you see on tv or on apparel. They cause feelings in others.

In this specific case, it caused a feeling in me. Of objectification, of abandonment, of being downsized to a cartoon that doesn't have those kinds of feelings.

This wouldn't be such a big deal to me had it not been for the boy. But the boy exists so so does this reaction. I hate it. And I hate that you bought it. Mainly because I hate him, and the whole male-dominant world I live in. But still. It's not okay with me.

I was a sock to him. I was something low to the ground and easy to step on. I was effortlessly replaceable and I had no value.

And I was also that sock to him. I was something to look at and touch and hurt whenever he felt so inclined. I was something to laugh at. Objectify. Mortify. Criticize.

I want you to decorate me with tokens of adornment, and to heal me with cures of fondness, and to take delight in just the thought that I'm yours. I don't want you to objectify and mortify and criticize me. If you do, you won't have me for very long.

I know that that's not what you're doing. But you're doing that to the sock version of me--and all women--and even though that isn't your intent, that's what I'm receiving.

Like I said, this might be an overreaction. But it's my reaction.

I want to be your wife. Not your sock.

-Beaskie

And Yellow, Too

Concept:

The bridge.

i'm sorry
he brought us there

I felt...naked.

me crying in my underwear

She died on November 1st.

on the morning, of halloween
like a story out of people magazine.

After you calmed me down...

i drove home, and fell asleep alone

And then it happens...

i'm sorry, for crying

I'm crying because of him

don't feel bad
you didn't do that

You know my true person.

the story that we won't share

And I'm really trying to get to know yours, too

we're all going to hide it well away, somewhere

And then, some news

a warning for a family

And my person, my health...

the kind a person gives about anatomy

But you've learned. You know. You heal.

now, well known, let's never sleep alone

And now, the grande finale

Black and blue
and yellow, too
fade the stains
as embers do
let's wake up tomorrow

and feel new.

-Beaskie