[POETRY] PMS

By Jayne Dough
The phone call:
“Who’s that girl in the background?!”
“…there’s no girl…”
BULLSHIT!
Smash your coffee grinder and your pitiable possessions. Scare the neighbours with my raging.
NO FUCKING GIRL?! I KNOW WHO SHE IS!
You think I don’t know where you get your dick wet?
You cheat
I cheat
Everybody fucking cheats
I know that.
But why do you have to go and get caught?
Why you hafta get caught, like a fucking little idiot,
and break our tacit agreement of secret silences?
Why do you hafta flout me
and indulge her sick fuckin’ giggles?
NO, NO.
A partnership built on shared deceit, I can live with. But one-sided lies, and bad ones, I cannot accept.
Jayne Dough is a pseudonym adopted to honor the Toronto woman, Jane Doe, who bravely sued the police for mishandling her rape case. Although we don’t know her name, Jane Doe helped a generation of women in the city of Toronto. Jayne Dough writes as one of the many unnamed women who have endured and supported a cycle of abuse. Now coming from a place of security and peace, she wants to be outspoken about her experience. Much gratitude to The Ride or Die Project for creating a platform that embraces the intricate complexity of these issues. Much love.
Leave a Reply