Exploring the stories of women who live by a ride-or-die philosophy

A Poem Written by an Audience Member Inspired by Other Side of the Game

A few days ago, a woman who attended the first draft reading of our play Other Side of the Game at the Piece of Mine Festival sent us an e-mail. She stated that the play had inspired her to write a poem. We are incredibly moved that our work has inspired others to create. She gave us permission to share it with you all here, so please take a moment to check it out.

Misguided Loyalty
By Anonymous
Like Eurydice I followed my lover through darkness;
if I stopped, I would die – or my lover would – and so I followed on.
I followed my lover through darkness into crackhouses where prostitutes and addicts assumed the mask of normalcy to cover their desperation.I followed my lover through darkness into parks where looming trees painted paranoid shadows on the cold ground below.I followed my lover through darkness past rushing traffic and the shining eyes of men.I followed my lover through darkness into 24-hour donut shops with washroom door buzzers and tables covered in ash.

I followed my lover through darkness into basement apartments where we shared food with cockroaches.

I followed my lover through darkness onto street corners where thugs carry bats at 2am.

I followed my lover through darkness into cars with strangers.

I followed my lover through darkness into bathrooms with bloodstained handprints on the wall.
I followed my lover through darkness down the rabbit-warren hallways of dilapidated buildings into apartments filled with Crips.
I followed my lover through darkness onto the balconies of abandoned houses where sleep was confounded by territorial raccoons and thieving crack hos.
I followed my lover through darkness to face off with black uniformed officers on frontlines as they shot some old man I didn’t know with rubber bullets.
I followed my lover through darkness as we breathed in clouds of choking pepper spray and thick tear gas.
I followed my lover through darkness to pick up in basements where mold covered interiors with sickly green posters glowed under black light.
I followed my lover through darkness into beds with too many people in them.
I followed my lover through darkness into the isolation rooms of hospitals.
I followed my lover through darkness into unnamed clinics with locked doors and heavy security.
I followed my lover through darkness into bed, willingly, only to be taken by force, unwilling.
I followed my lover through darkness into painful silences where my confusion stretched, see-through and hot, like blown glass.
I followed my lover through darkness into drunkenness and other intoxications.
I followed my lover through darkness, through madness, poverty, addiction, tragedy, mania, depression, and suicidal threats.
Like Eurydice, I followed my lover, who never looked back.
I stopped following, and didn’t die, nor did my lover.
Next time perhaps I will find a lover willing to follow me.

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