Duct-Taped Wedding Bells by Grace Montgomery

I haven’t told you
I’ve been sleeping on the floor
the past six nights in a row.
It’s probably because three pages
of your slightly-drunken handwriting
are taped above my bed
with purple duct-tape,
worn away at the edges.

And somehow
it reminds me of the day the snow piled up
in undisturbed mountains
that mocked my instability
as you finished destroying
the scene you threw a party in
a few nights earlier,
ripping the cabinets from the wall
in a fit of anger
while I tried to slit my wrists
in the second bedroom
because that’s how badly I wanted to escape
from you.

But when you picked the lock,
My knife clattered to the floor,
And my heart sunk into my foot,
I was terrified.
You punched the wall in,
spots of blue and green dancing in your vision.

And I think I was crying,
And I think you were dying,
And we both knew it.

You used to tell me I was beautiful
And I never believed you
Until that moment,
when you turned to look at me,
your fractured hand
hanging at your side.

But it doesn’t matter,
Because you never call me pretty anymore,
And I never bring it up.

It can’t change the fact
that just last month
I went out with a guy
who called me
wonderful
Because I wanted to know
what love felt like.

But the price of dinner
and staged affection
all went to waste
Because his lips were deceiving,
All he wanted was sex,
And if that’s all love is,
it’s not worth the goddamned trouble.
When you hit me,
at least I feel something.

I prefer to have pieces of me
scattered all over the house.
I’m not even bitter anymore.

Besides,
You and I are soulmates,
Or at least that’s what you scribbled
in the letter above my bed,
And it’s too late to believe otherwise
because you’ve already proposed
And I know I’m going to marry you.

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About the author:

Grace Montgomery is a high school student cursed with a passion for the arts, including writing, theatre, and music. She hopes to one day pursue a career in one of these areas, and continue publishing her work. Although Grace primarily writes poetry, short fiction and experimental works also live within the depths of her notebooks. Her longer works-in-progress include a screenplay and a poetic novel.