Wife, Weep, Widow Poem/Photos

Trigger warning: (writing and visuals) - Difficult relationships, self harm, and violence. 

Disclaimer: I do not condone violence as a resolution for justice/problem solving. I do not condone self-harm. This is a single, fictional take based on some reality/feelings of desperation. Do not hurt yourself or others. For the purpose of this display, I wanted to tap into a boom of rage and final response of closeted desire for freedom- it was that or self destruction through oppression. A spider's final prey. Please see the bottom of the page for more context and insight.

Wife, Weep, Widow

By Emma S.

Daydreaming in the garden 

I am jealous of how freely the vegetation blooms

How they reach towards the sun, exposed to such warmth

I open all the curtains, still this house engulfs me in darkness

Yet I am not blind, I see through it all

You don't see me

I swear this house had no ghosts upon our arrival

Another gift, no note

A sparkling perfume to wear upon my day

It does smell quite beautiful I will say

Though, its prenotions of materialistic power still feels to me so sour

Don't bother buying me flowers

Fresh upon first sniff but rots in a still water vase

I am cutting all stems and roots attached

They’re merely just another purchase to liven up the quiet dinner table

Nip that in the bud

You can't buy me

Choked by obedience

Pretty pearls and poor promises 

The desperation to suspend them upon myself and neck

I too feel like an investment, all at your expense 

Cross-stitch my heart

Build an impenetrable cloth to wrap around it

Even if there were a rip, you don't know how to sew

That isn't included within the list of things you are required to do

Cook 

Clean

Wash

The spiders, I spend my time dusting their webs

When I would rather be spending time with educators, leaders, and writers

Eventually, I viewed us both the same

Both undermined by our delicacy and instincts of hiding

Its constantly renewing its creation, all to be destroyed again

Creating something beautiful, until it's smacked down dead

I became envious of the spiders too somehow 

For the most part, they come and go as they please

I cannot, as for here I am on my hands and knees

That is difference between me and you, well one of many 

Please cast me upon your web, I already feel swallowed whole

I would call that Mercy

After a while, the cleaner began to look like it would quench my thirst

A thirst for something more, but ultimately a thirst for something less

Open wide, smile with pride

Pretty 

Proper 

Perfect

Wife and mom helicopter, denied self navigation

The map and destination has already been decided 

My flying wings are clipped, but were once pre-installed blades 

Sharp

Cutting

Heavy

You expected me to lift up and coast

I drift in auto-pilot and only in circles

There's no mechanic, and it all feels too much to carry upon myself

You're the driver here, I take the back seat

Like you’ve got my back, ha, sure with a knife

Trophy

Maid

Womb

My patience is far past sheer

Oh, you’re back home from work early I fear

Now!

Scrub

Rub

Tuck in that chub

Cook me dinner, fold my clothes, and draw me a warm bath

I have many titles you see

Bitch

Nag

Wife

Nitpicked through a fine-toothed comb 

Though I must confess, there is something that brings me brief joy

Time spent alone, before I get back to my busy work

I look at the pin up girls and admire how they dress 

I’ve always heard about this about this lusting test

Though is it a test if it cannot be taken?

I still study

I use the petals from last weeks bouquet as page markers

Don't worry, I am also reading up on new recipes

Something I haven't tried before

I think I found the perfect one

Does it call for a slip, fall, shove or was it a gun?

I can't remember which one

It's all up to me then, Chef’s special tonight!

How delicious it feels to put up one last fight

I have come to a conclusion, since you like to carelessly so devour

If you’re going to act like a dog, you might as well eat like one too

Dinner is set out, by the table where you smoke your cigarettes

Supplement them for dessert tonight

They are cherished by you more deeply than anything else here right?

I slipped one in my pocket, hope you don't mind

Anything else my dear?

Let me know if you need me to fetch you a napkin

You’ve been served

Won't be coming back for seconds

For once I did it I shed one tear, more than you've ever given me

Overcame with a sense of relief and what should be shameful glee

Took a sip of my wine, both bitter and sweet

I believe the brand was Victory

Luckily, I have been trained on how to clean up messes

I don't know what happened! 

Truly, I am open to all guesses!

Widow of the house

I guess I become the spider after all

I play the radio, dance freely, and look forward to my afternoon calls

Volume up, no more muteness

This feeling of free will, no one can take it from me again

The color suddenly was brought back into my world

I thought vibrance was forever forbidden, until now

I have the keys, I run this house

I can make my very own intricate, multifaceted web

I have only dreamt of this type of bliss, just as you have always lived it 

“Holding up half the sky remains an unrealized dream.”

Though that is true for all of us, I have found rebirth

A newly hatched chick

The only titles I accept now are

Darling

Madam

Miss

Photos by Julia F.

I created this photoshoot/poem idea out of the concept of feminine rage. I feel that feminine rage in certain spaces needs to be expressed more- because it’s truth- an experience that I believe in some way shape or form every woman has felt inside- though hopefully not to this extent. Still burns nonetheless. This poem/photoshoot concept demonstrates life in the eyes of a woman in past generations. A feeling then response to the patriarchy in the traditional house-wife era. I absolutely respect stay at home mothers and wives and believe they are superheroes. Though in this case, it was not much of a choice. Choice makes all the difference. Freedom to learn, create, and love makes all the difference. The patriarchy is still very much present. Evolved in both similar and new ways. I would like to play on a modern concept in the future. There’s plenty I could dive into, but for this piece specifically I wanted to go back in time slightly to a couple generations to depict where some of this rage and desire to be free could stem from or how it could feel back then. I wanted to embody this life and experience through my writing and the photos to bring this vision/story to life. 

That being said, I am so thankful to men and husbands who equally value their partners. Which was and could be the case for many then as well. True love, true light, and true darkness will always remain true through all of time. It’s never fair to group all individuals and dynamics. Yet, I am heartbroken for those who were mistreated when it was normalized, even protected through patriarchal roles. I am so thankful women are paving the way towards freedom, choice, and self expression with or without others standing by our sides- respected through education, empathy, and leadership. But hey, storytelling is more adventurous/up for more dramatic imagination I guess you could say.

Thank you to Julia, for being an amazing photographer and helping me bring this vision to life. You are so talented and cherished.

Thank you to Alex, for helping me set up and support me at the shoot and for being such a caring partner.

Thank you to all the women who have supported households on their backs. A thank you might have made all the difference. All everyone wants to feel seen and heard.