Bitch
Waiting to Happen

My whole life
I think I’ve been waiting
to happen.

Today on the couch of the shrink
the x-ray minds of the husband and therapist
zap me with the heat of anger—radiation penetrating
to reveal my true self—

You see. . .

I am

a

Bitch.

Cold and calculating,
ready to flush fantasy
with a laugh just under my breath,
unwilling to be controlled again
by my expectations
or by anyone else’s version
of the truth.

This realization is paradise
and I am finally released
with this illumination
of extreme light,
from any obligation to men
and marriage.

Like a new nun
I want to press
my shaven head
to the cool tile
of the floor,
stone
before the altar,
and give thanks
for the life of spirit
bestowed on me
by God.

I am a bitch
waiting
to discover
the joy
of holding
nothing
back.
No hurt.
No harsh word.
No pretending
I’m something
I’m not.