Exit Review

“…who/ among us is not a comically constructed
mutt, a cacophonous anthology?” ~ Amy Gerstler

Yes, I married young— I was a child bride.
Wait, this is a joke! but shave off a few years

and it could have been true, you know? Yes,
I had my first child before I reached the legal

age for alcoholic consumption. I thought I
had it all together, but of course I was a finely

controlled mess of prematurely fired hormones
passing for suave maturity. For the first

five years or so we lived rent-free
with my parents, not savvy enough yet

to know the difference between pride
and the proverbial fall. Did I have any

inkling of the rest of what was to come?
Of course not. After a fight, I spat out

to anyone but the offending party: You,
you are responsible for making of my

marriage a failure! There are times
I am so ashamed of my naivete— Hurt is,

as always, the ever-mutating threat one
will be abandoned. Never once then

did I think to turn the tables, deal
the same cards back with my own aplomb.

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