The Soul of the Spirit

It was always difficult to get her to talk about death. Or loss, even. It never made a difference what kind of aspect it was in for her. Friends leaving. Family dying. Entire villages on the other side of the globe that were destroyed in a single moment. I remember there were times when I would want to scream at her and slap her across the face to see if she would react to anything of such magnitude.

Whenever a friend of ours would move away, she would treat it as if their entire existence had been wiped from the record. She had this beautiful way of becoming indifferent to any changes and just jump into the here and now as if there was no other way to live. It always made me think of a Fury, for whatever reason. Calm. Collected. So very controlled, and even when it was no longer in her control it didn’t phase her. She was the Ice Queen.

There was a night, beginning of summer, when it was just so humid we both decided that we could not just stay in, and there was a bottle of honey whiskey between us. We joked about going down to the viewing platform under the Monroe Street Bridge and sharing the bottle with the kids that were living under there at the time. I thought it was a great idea, and she laughed at it, deep and loud. We kept walking around downtown, passing that bottle in the brown bag between us as we snapped pictures with an old Polaroid camera by Luigi’s, debating how long we could lay in the middle of Main Street before a car would come by.

She always lived in the moment. I remember just watching her make friends as we walked that night, both of us getting whistled at by the other mischievous boys that were prowling, and I had this green serpent start coiling in my belly. I tried to attribute it to the whiskey, but it would not release. She always made it look so fucking easy, the changes never made her sway. It looked so easy for her, and in that moment I hated her for it. Then she turned and smiled at me, and for a brief moment I saw this flash of absolute regret in her eyes. She pressed that bottle to her lips, and the demons were gone from that hazel gaze.

It stopped me in my steps. I didn’t know what to do with the vision that she had just shown me. The only thing I wanted to do, I did. And I can’t say whether it was the liquor or my friend, but as soon as my arms were around her, she started crying. Nails dug into my back, and tears sprung up into my eyes as I tried to fully engulf her in my energy.

“It hurts so much.”

It was barely a whisper, and it cut to the quick. I thought I had imagined her saying it, but then she started screaming.

“Let’s go find Jaimeson!”

She tore away from my embrace, and ran. It took all my strenght to keep up with her, screaming demon that she had become. And with every stride, she became less of the controlled woman that I knew and more of a soul plagued by the Erinyes.She ran until she fell, panting out of breath. When I caught up, my legs collapsed so we were both laying on a field of green, staring up at the full moon.

“Do you think it makes me a bad person if I lost him?” Her voice was so full of bitterness, of regret. For a moment I had no idea how to answer this question. She was always the one that never reflected on the past; at least not out loud. She was the person that always listened to the problems of the masses, gave advice, told others how to work through their own issues. She was never the one with issues. I assured her, as best I could, that there was no point in living in the past mistakes and misconceptions that may have brought her to this point.

She nodded, a silent smile illuminate on her face by the moonlight. We lay there, two souls bound by the hauntings of our own imaginings, intertwined by the spirits in our belly, in the longings of our hearts that only best friends can share, just content to laugh at the absurdity of the world and help the other stand up under whatever pressure our souls may be containing.

It’s been years since that night, and it was the last time I ever saw that vulnerability and she let me see that part of her soul. Now, whenever I offer her a bottle enclosed in a discreet brown bag, she will wink at me and ask it has a honeyed bitterness to it. We smile at the memory, but a part of me longs for my friend to share that spirit with me again, to show me that broken part of her soul that I fear is still mending.

Hosea's Wife

She was the girl you steered clear of when you saw the red lipstick.
She is the girl that paints her nails in shades of blood to mimick the one that was sent to atone for her sins.

She is the girl that identifies with Rahab, Hosea's wife, and the woman at the well.
She was the girl that is still lost, and fighting to find what once made her feel alive.

I remember it was dark, and I couldn't help thinking that the darkness that surrounded me was nothing compared to the darkness that enveloped my heart, the darkness that had enveloped my very soul. His steady breathing, so calming usually, had no affect on me that night. I grabbed his hand, gently moving it from across my body, and dropped it in the space between our bodies. He stirred, but didn't awaken. I pulled my body free of the blankets, planning on sliding stealthily out of the bed, to creep away in the silence for a forbidden cigarette.

I never got it. His arm enveloped my waist as soon as the cooler air breathed on his skin. He pulled me into his body, molding us together, entwining his arms around my torso, under my head. His fingers caressed my cheek as he smoothed my hair, exposing my cheek for his lips to brush.

"I love you." It was barely a whisper on his breath, but it was heard. I smiled, then whispered it back before resigning myself to his embrace.

The darkness wasn't ready to let me go so easily. It tugged at my stomach, started pointing out his faults in the daylight, when his subconscious didn't have as much control over his actions. The voices whispered that he didn't love me as much as he said, that his actions showed otherwise, that there would come a day he would lose interest and toss me aside for his next mistress.

Months passed. He forgave me for my last indiscretion. Our trust began to build.
But life happened, and what started out as a blessing became my downfall. He brought me home, gave me time with my family, and supported me. My daughter calls him "Daddy." We planned a life together.

And the voices would not be silenced. Our teamwork was picked apart, warning signs went off in my head when our discussions over minuscule details didn't get finished. And my bank account balanced stayed in the single digits. Money became the wedge that would awaken the insecure girl, that would raise my past with a vengeance.

I became the adulteress, the whore of my past, the terrified woman that would not listen to reason, but reacted with emotion born of fear. I ran from him, and into a world where money could be exchanged for the use of my body. I ran, out of fear of the unknown, and away from the security of his everlasting love, into a world of illusion, where security could be bought by a paycheck in the bank, and stripped by my own hands.

I am Hosea's wife.
And there is still hope for me.

Return, O Israel, to the LORD your God, for your sins have brought you down. Bring your petitions, and return to the LORD. Say to him, "forgive all our sins and graciously receive us, so that we may offer you the sacrifice of praise. Assyria cannot save us, nor can our strength in battle. Never again will we call the idols we have made 'our gods.' No, in you alone do the orphans find mercy."
-Hosea 14:1-3

one of many

they say
Curiosity killed the Cat
and the tiger
of my soul
is Dying

every momento
the notes
the pictures
of the lovers of his past

i stopped asking questions
months ago
the knowledge alone
that i wasn't his first
is enough to make me question
"will i be his last?"

the fear
of losing him
has made me want to do
stupid things
that i
would never forgive myself for.

but what will separate me
from
two Fiancés
his First Love
the Mother of his children

i'm nothing special

I was just one friend
of many
one lover
of many
one broken woman
of many

what sets me apart?

consumer's world

i am a commodity
a novelty
a toy for your pleasure

i'm disposable
expendable
replaced by another

just consumed
regurgitated
and thrown to the wayside

good enough for the shadows
never the light
always behind, seldom beside


the consumer's world
of flesh
desires that never stay

slaves to our addictions
abandoned
from the light we ever stray

Misery's Mistress

"The one I have loved so long
Still carries with her my heart.
But my Passion, Drive, my Lust,
Alas! They, the other's Art!"

That I could bottle these tears,
Make a deadly potion,
Twist the clock and rewind,
Stop my heart in that motion.

Drop that drink from the roof,
Still my voice in that yell,
I could have changed my fate,
Kept my soul from this Hell.

So stuff my heart in that box,
Scream my sorrow in silence;
Give me some time and a half,
I'll be back with a vengeance.

But not the girl from before,
She's dying and gone,
That love that has killed her,
Stripped her soul with a song.

Now darker than midnight,
Deadly as death;
The Mistress, some call me,
In low whispered breath.

'Twas love that has taught me,
In manners efficient,
I'm as good as my past,
I've been well conditioned.

So still my lips and retreat,
Erego your last breath is gone;
The matter of time,
There's none to respond.

The Ghost Inside of Me

DAY ONE
I will never forget this moment. The feel of the cold porcelain against my skin, the pounding of my heart in my chest as I watch the timer on my phone countdown.
Two minutes, fifteen seconds left. Shit.
Lauraine is standing in the doorway, holding that cursed stick in her hand. I start to feel woozy again, the room start spinning. I drop my head into my hands, taking deep breaths like she had told me to. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Eyes closed to try to block out the sight of the world.
"Emma."
I lift my head up, look at Lauraine. She didn't have to say anything. The look on her face said it all.
No. Not now. I can't stop it. She turns blurry as my eyes start to fill. Then my stomach turns. I barely get off the toilet in time to get sick, and Lauraine is right there, comforting me as I empty my stomach.
"It's okay. It's all right. You'll be fine, Em."
I sit up, the shock of the moment being shoved out of my mind as I realize what she's saying.
"The fuck I will! I'm pregnant, Lauraine! Fucking PREGNANT!" There's a small voice in the back of my head telling me that I need to control the volume in my voice, but I can't hear it over the blood pounding in my ears. "I'm in the middle of a custody battle for my first child, and now this! This one's dad just moved two thousand miles away, after one night together, and I'm not even positive he means half the shit he's telling me! This is the last kind of situation that constitutes as fine."
I stop, breathing heavily as I wipe the tears off my face. I look at Lauraine. She's still standing there, holding the test in her hand. I reach out my hand, and she hands it to me.
Yep. Fucking digital test even says it right there: PREGNANT.
I don't know why, but I can't help but laugh. My best friend looks at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am, but I couldn't care less at this point. I look at her, giggling.
"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. Don't tell your father. Prepare to lie."
Lauraine bursts out laughing. When she stops, she looks at me, and the laughter has definitely improved her countenance.
"God. Only you would come up with some kind of crazy crap like that at a moment like this, Emma. Only you."
"I know. But that's why you love me, right?"
"Oh, always." She comes over, and wraps her arms around my shoulders as I start to tear up again. "And you really will be fine."
"I know." My tone doesn't match the words coming out of my mouth. "But I'm not telling him just yet."
"Yeah, first figure out how far along you are," (her tone is now dripping with sarcasm), "before you tell all the prospective daddies you're knocked up."
I cringe. Lauraine doesn't know how close to home she hit. She sees me do it.
"What?"
I look at her, not believing that she doesn't remember. "Christmas Eve."
Realization dawns, and Lauraine now looks mortified. "Shit, Em, I totally spaced on that."
I shrug, trying to let her off the hook easily. "It's still a baby, Raine, no matter who the father is."
A few moments pass, and then Lauraine stands up.
"Well, let's get you an appointment."
I stare at her.
"Ultrasound, dork. You gotta know how far along you are!"
"Oh. Yeah. Well, let's do it."

DAY FOUR



I always hated those stirrups. And the special "wand" that was always waiting at the ready, right beside the goop the tech always squirted on my belly. Ugh. I do not want to be here right now. If it hadn't been for Lauraine calling me and asking if I was going, I would've skipped out and just went to Planned Parenthood. But I could never bring myself to kill something so innocent.
There was a picture up above the bed I was laying on, one of a tropical view. There was a flower, and in the background a beach with a wave that was just breaking on it.
And the only reason I remember these tiny details is because I was actually wishing I could be on that beach, with him, instead of in that thin hospital gown with my underwear laying in the pile of my clothes. You know, easy access in case the tech had to do a vaginal ultrasound.

Ugh.

It's these little things that keep coming back to me. Driving down the road, blaring my music as my little one sleeps in the back seat. The snow is coming down pretty fast, and my cell phone has no reception. I keep trying to block out the memories.

**
"Are you on any kind of birth control?"
I started as the tech asked the question, not really expecting her to say anything to me. I looked at her.
"Sorry, what?"
"Birth control. Are you on any?"
"Umm, yeah. I have an IUD."
"And when was the last time you had intercourse?"
I did the quick math in my head.
"The third."
The tech just nods, and grabs one of the wands. She squirts the goo on my stomach, way down by my pelvic area. I know that as early as I am, my uterus won't have had time to grow that much.
"All right, let's try to get a look at that fetus."
And ten minutes later, she still had a frown on her face. I hesitated a suggestion.
"With my last pregnancy, the tech had to do a vaginal ultrasound to see the fetus because it was so early, and that was just five weeks along."
The tech nodded, then grabbed the wand. Another twenty minutes passed, and still nothing. Then she looked at me.
"You said you have an IUD?"
"Yes. I've had one since June, two years ago."
"Hmm. I'm going to be right back. Will you be okay by yourself?"
I nodded as she left me alone in the room. My hands went down to the bottom of my belly, and started pressing into the soft flesh.
Yep, there was the hardening of the uterus. Still pretty low in my pelvis, but at least that meant I was pregnant. I lay there for a while, just waiting for the tech to come back, pushing down on my pelvis, trying to find the top of my uterus.
When the door opened, she walked in, quickly followed by a young man. I assumed he was in his thirties, but he still looked pretty young. He looked me in the eyes.
"Emma?"
I nodded, and my stomach started clenching. That small voice in the back of my head started getting shriller. Something wasn't right. He extended his hand.
"I'm Dr. Farnham. How are you doing today?"
I gestured to my stomach, giving him a bit of a blank look. I knew my words would come out layered with sarcasm.
"Absolutely fantastic. Is there a specific reason you're here?"
Dr. Farnham hesitated just enough to confirm my suspicions.
"It seems that Maddie can't locate an embryo in your uterus."
I nod, trying to stay cool and collected even though my heart is already beating a million miles an hour.
"She says that you have an IUD."
I nod again.
"All right. So I'm just going to take a look, see if she missed anything."
Yeah, like checking my Fallopian tubes for an implanted embryo. I knew the risks that came with having an IUD. Hell, I'd already had one miscarriage right after leaving Adrianna's dad. I knew what could happen.
Dr. Farnham picked up the wand, and I did the best I could to keep the grimace off my face. I stared up, focusing again on the picture of the tropical beach, imagining I was there with Jamieson. Maddie asked if I wanted to hold her hand, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes at the offer. I nodded, and took her hand.
I remember Dr. Farnham telling me to relax, and then I blocked out everything but the feel of Maddie's hands enveloping mine. My eyes were closed, so if I did start crying they couldn't see it. I started counting in my head.
One.
Two. 
Three.
My hand was in between Maddie's, and she was stroking the back of my palm.
Four. 
It hurt. I could've sworn he was trying to get past my cervix at this point. My hand tightened in Maddie's.
Five.
Six.
Jamieson should've been there to hold my hand, not this stranger.
Stop it, Emma. It's not his fault he's not here.
You shut up. I need something to focus on, and happy thoughts aren't keeping out this pain.
But you're not being fair to him. And you know it.
So? Why the hell should that matter. It's not like he's been texting or calling me as much as he used to. I'm just a waning interest. He's probably surrounded by girls down there.
God, you're so fickle! He told you he loves YOU. 
Yeah, right after he got down there.
"Ah, there it is."
Dr. Farnham's voice snapped me back into reality. I looked at the ultrasound screen, and there was indeed a small circle.
"Where did you find it?"
But he was doing some measurements, and didn't answer me for a few minutes. Then he looked me right in the eyes.
"It's an ectopic pregnancy."
I could feel the blood draining from my head. And then the room started spinning. My stomach couldn't handle it. I covered my mouth, just in time to catch the vomit before it ejected. Maddie moved faster than I could give her credit for, and then there was a small garbage can under my head.
They patiently waited for me to finish. And once I could breathe again, I started crying. Maddie put her hand on my back. I looked at Farnham, trying to make out his shape through the tears.
"How far along?"
"Could be two or three weeks. It's only a guess, because of the inaccuracy of the signal. Especially when we're trying to see inside the fallopian tubes."
Two to three weeks. Well, it could be Jamieson's, or it could be...no. It's Jamieson's baby. Oh God. It's JAMIESON. What the hell am I going to do?

***

I was sitting in the drive thru of Taco Bell, and Cake came on.
To me, coming from you.
I couldn't resist. I grabbed my phone, and texted the lyrics to Jamieson.
Friend is a four letter word. 
I ordered my food. Adrianna was in the back seat, repeatedly saying, "Food. Food. Mama, food."
"Yeah, baby, we're going to get food."
I looked over my shoulder at her, watching her face scrunch as she started yawning. It was too darn precious. A smile broke across my face as she looked at me and said, "Mama."
"Hi, baby."
"Mama." She pointed out the window as my notification ringtone went off. "Phone!"
"Yeah, baby, that's Mama's phone."
N is the only part of the word that I heard.
A smile came to my face as I started humming along to the song going through my head.
Call me morbid or absurd
The reply came through as soon as I pressed Send.
God, Emma. You're amazing.
Why? Because I quote Cake as I'm listening to their music?
That, among other reasons.
lol
I got my food from the guy leaning way down to my little toy car. I pulled out of the drive thru, got Adrianna her food and dug in. As I finished up, I picked up my phone again.
How in the world am I supposed to do this? I have to get home, but I have to talk to him about it. Shit.
Adrianna was still stuffing her face. I decided to wait.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a gas station to text him.
I have to talk to you about something.
I got back on the road, continued driving. Minutes passed. And then my phone started ringing. Jamieson's picture showed on my screen, and I knew I couldn't drive and talk to him about this. I pulled over.
"Hey, hon."
"Hey, Emma. What's going on?" The question was light, easy. I don't know why my stomach had to get into knots right then.
"Well...okay. So last week I took a pregnancy test."
"Okay."
"And it came out positive."
There was silence. And the knot in my stomach grew tighter.
"Jamie?"
"Oh shit. Emma...oh, shit."
I don't even know how I'm going to tell him the rest.
"Shit, Emma. What...crap....what..."
"That's not the end of it."
More silence.
"It's an ectopic pregnancy."
"What does that mean?"
"The fetus didn't make it to my uterus. It's implanted in my fallopian tubes."
Jamieson started getting hysterical; I could hear it in his voice.
"Oh my god. Ohmygod. OHmygod. Emma!"
I couldn't stop the tears from coming, and I couldn't quiet the sobs that resounded from my chest.
I could hear his ragged breathing on the other end of the phone, and I could only think to start taking deep breaths and hope that he followed my lead.
He did. And then, "What the hell is going to happen?"
I took a breath, then told him.
"It's going to be taken care of."
And then the sobs started again. When they stopped, there was a pause.
"What do you mean, taken care of?"
"I have an appointment for next Tuesday."
Another lie. You already started the abortion today, you liar.
"I can't have this baby, Jamieson."
"Oh my god, Emma. Just...shit. This is really fucking heavy."
"I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you. This will make it harder on both of us now."
"No, I'm glad you told me. You shouldn't have to go through this alone, and I wish I could be there with you."
"It's okay. My best friend is going to help me out with everything."
Another pause.
"Em, you know I'd be there for you if I could be."
"I do."
But part of me is glad you aren't.
"Well, Jamie, I've got to keep driving."
"You're driving?"
"Yeah, I've got about a half hour before I get home. I just pulled over so I could talk to you."
"Okay. Well, let me know when you get home. I'm here if you want to talk."
"Thanks, hon."
"I love you, Emma."
My eyes started welling up. Again.
"I love you, too, Jamieson."
We hung up, but I didn't start the car. Adrianna was passed out in the back seat, her head leaning up against the side of her car seat. My stomach started clenching, and I knew it wasn't from the emotions. The pain grew in intensity, and I had to keep biting my tongue to stop from crying out in agony.
It subsided. My hands went to my stomach, and I couldn't help but cradle my belly. I was killing a child.
There was a dying life inside of me, and it was my fault.
No, not dying.
Dead.

DAY TEN


I woke up this morning to my little Adrianna snuggling up to my chest. It seemed like such a simple gesture, that single touch.  She reached for my necklace, whispering, "Pretty."

I just laid there, in the grey light of pre-dawn. Adrianna has been climbing out of her crib for a while now, and has been crawling into my bed with me. For almost a week now. And people say that children don't know when something is going wrong. She looks up at me with those beautiful green eyes, smiles just enough to show me her pearly whites, and then snuggles back into my chest.
"Mama."

I smiled, just enjoying the time I was getting to spend with my little girl. And then she started petting my belly. I could barely breathe, let alone see through the tears that were threatening to spill over onto Adrianna's head. We stayed like that for a while; Adrianna petting my belly, whispering her little words. Pretty. Baby. Mama. It was always alternating, and always those three words. I couldn't tell if it was just her saying things to speak or if she actually had an idea of what was going on.
Then she stopped. And sat straight up. And continued to stare at my belly, wide eyed. Just the look in her eyes was enough to scare me.
"Addy?"
Her name broke her concentration, and she looked me in the eyes. Then pointed to my stomach.
"Mama. Bump." Her hand went down, touching the area right around my belly button. "Bump."
She looked at me, questioning. And the only thing I could think was that even if the uterus hadn't expelled the fetus yet, there was no way Adrianna would have been able to feel a bump. Not mere weeks into the first trimester.

But that was this morning. And I'd been bleeding for the last three days. Now the night had permeated my room, and the darkness surrounded me closer than any lover had before. My hands continue to explore my abdomen, pressing just a little above my pubic bone to see if I could find any indication that my uterus was continuing to expand. There was none.

And yet, the ghost inside of me refuses to let me forget the little one that I had killed.

to the girls with daddy issues

most girls have them.
they'll go throughout their whole lives,
reliving
reciting
attempting to
fix whatever past we can.

but the days pass by
our beds are still full
and most of us will
cry ourselves to sleep each night

asking the sky
What can I do?
Why won't he love me?
why does it always have to hurt?

or there are those of us
who will scream
FUCK THE WORLD
and
walk with our heads held high
as we use those that would try to hurt us first

so call me crazy
call me fun
call me the perfect fuck buddy
because I can't get emotionally attached

it doesn't matter anymore

I'm stronger than my past

and in the end,
it's the survivor that gets to tell the story

pretty lies

tell me lies and falsehoods
black as the night to come
give me one good reason
to scream in fear and run

don't give me words of hope
or something sweet to say
i'd rather you just hit me
then turn and walk away

i want to feel the pain
but only on the surface
i don't want my heart to break
i want to remain callous

tell me you were lying
in that moment of desire
give me death and cold
as i walk right through hellfire

whisper pretty lies
that you know i will believe
cut me off from love
i don't want your reprieve

Dog Tag

I told him
I loved him
He said he loved me back

He called me his Eve
and said
he was my Jay

But he couldn't deal
with that relationship
because I had a child
and he wasn't ready to be a father
just yet

but for a couple months
I continued
to wear his dog tag

then decided
enough was enough

but I still kept the tag
though I wasn't wearing it anymore

a few weeks passed
the tag grew heavier
along with my heart

Then he told me
he was
"On a date"

So I took the tag off the necklace
handed it to a guy I barely knew
and told him

Get rid of this for me. Please.
I don't want to know where you put it
I just don't want it anymore.

He looked at me
puzzled

I told him I might tell him the story someday
but right then it was just too painful.

As he climbed out of my bed the next morning
he told me
he'd thrown it off the Monroe Street Bridge

I've never loved the Spokane River so much

moments to last forever

There's something to be said
for Captain Morgan
being smuggled
during
ninja tag
and s'mores around a campfire
that Gabe built in seconds

guitar music that sweeps
through the group
that doesn't always need to be talking

because we know we're
just that good

the hugs
the laughs
the level of comfort
doesn't compare
to anything you thought you knew before

we wrestle
with eachother
with ourselves
with our own demons
and we share the experiences
because we know that the others will help carry us
when we can't do it on our own anymore

Joe
Kody
Kenney
Gabe
Lynn

they know the names that I call myself
and they rebuke the demons that are latched on my soul
and though we're obsessed with typical teenage stuff
like...
swimming
and watching movies
and Twister
and flirting
and having fun in the middle of the night
without consuming a drop of alcohol

they can sit back and be serious
and I don't have to worry about what I say becoming
a part of the Northport grape vine

these nights
these days
these moments that last forever
I wouldn't trade them for anything