Trophy/Mr. Blog

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Once, you held it high.

Boasting of your win, you proclaimed, “I showed her.”

For years, you kept it. Away from me.

Yours.

Sacred.

And then, I took it back.

Like your trumpeted ego, it stood tall, but was built with cheap plastic, covered in gold stickers, now coated in dust.

I lifted it and admired it’s weight;  something about it felt familiar.

And then, I let it go.

I shattered it against your skull, through your eye sockets, into orifices, around veins, under arteries, along jawbones, tonguing cheekbones, and out your ears. I obliterated it all.

And then, went back for more. The tedious task of reshaping your body into less than nothing had only begun.

Guts oozed from eyelids and I found your tongue buried between your toes.

When all was complete, I made your sinewy rot speak my truth.

I thought best, since the floor was ruined with your ick, to leave my message along the wall.

I wrote simply “winner” with those tendrils of your waste.

Walked the staircase down, found the house key, and locked it all away.

Found the biggest yellow marigold in your garden. Popped the head of the flower off, dug a hole, threw the house key in, covered it, and walked away.


I’m a former writer/producer, Home Depot girl, adult oncology medical assistant, pediatric oncology nurse, turned personal life wrecker.  You can read more of my writing at Life as it stands… for now

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