Alone With a View

by Vanessa Willoughby

to be single
they say
is to wear your wedding dress in a shallow grave.
newly engaged brides chirping across internet lines
their fears muted, turned into sepia-toned royal announcements
to inspire mob-wave jealousy.
girl, you’re not a woman yet
because you have yet to unchain yourself
from your father’s name
and latch onto a new master.
i am alone in a way that breathes life
through my skin, removes the stinger of
loves that coat everything with
sickly ambulance wails.
every man i’ve met
has wanted their piece of cake
and eat it, too, tame wilderness
like an explorer seeking a new culture to infect.
every man i’ve met
has wanted to lay me down
and never wanted to pick me back up
(drowning as foreplay, sigh before you speak)
when all i want is to find that elusive person who will
float with me on top of the cream.

Vanessa Willoughby is a graduate of Emerson College and The New School. Her work has appeared on The Toast, The Hairpin, Electric Cereal, and The Huffington Post.