Same Old Story, Dear Wife

By Minh Truong

Same Old Story

He’s afraid you’ll leave him
so he’ll tie you up tight as can be
string chains of filial obligations and financial droughts around your wrists
He’s scared you’ll laugh at him
so he binds your mouth that you cannot speak
and confines you to rooms alone
so that your mouth cannot reveal the truths
and condemn him as anything less than a god
Oh yes,
the fear you cause in him chokes him in rage
that a woman could cause this to him?
Oh yes,
so terrified of the power you could wreak,
He clipped your wings, struck you down to the ground
so that he could never be seen as weak
Always the same old story, as old as the earth’s been round

“profil” © Eric Benacek https://www.flickr.com/photos/invad3r/223214916/

Dear Wife,

When did love change? When did it start to speak to you in sharp sounds,
vowels punctuated by your harsh sobbing, how did it become this way? Was
it when you first met, and he plucked you out of the tree, unsure and unripe,
mouth greedy to devour you, to let no other man touch even as he stroked
his fingers over the soft skin of other peaches- do your eyes hurt, from years
of wearing blindfolds, does your back ache from the weight of bearing his
arrogance, can you still hear although you’ve plugged your ears from their
cold whispers? How long have your fingers ached, threading together loose
ends in the cold hours of sunrise, but his still clean, eyes alive with nights of
sleep meant to be yours? When did you forget? Forget your home,
the strength built in your bones to give you wings overseas and over lands,
running away from horror, forget your name, proud name of motherly
ancestry, when did you lose your name into his? When did your mouth
become his mouth, your body his body, your heart his sole birthright? Oh
mother, this was the love they spoon fed into your mouth, they whisper into
your childish ears that you are lucky,
     he has strength in him, be grateful, lean on him lean on him
     lean on him lean on him lean on him lean on him lean on him
     Do you still remember how to stand?


Minh Truong is a seventeen-year-old high school senior, who resides in West Vancouver, British Columbia. Her work has appeared in the poetry and prose anthology, Summer Mornings, as well as her personal blog, writingandothershit.weebly.com. Minh is currently finishing off high school and plans on continuing studying writing into university.

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One Comments Post a Comment
  1. Julia Clarke says:

    How can a 17 year old have such an amazing insight into adult relationships? Fabulously authentic writing!

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