Anger
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If this what you truly want, I can wear her skin...over mine.
Her hair, over mine.
Her hands as gloves.
Her teeth as confetti.
Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane.
We can pose for a photograph. All three of us, immortalized. You and your perfect girl.
I don't know when love became elusive. What I know is no one I know has it.
My father's arms around my mother's neck. Fruit too ripe to eat.
I think of lovers as trees growing to and from one another.
Searching for the same light.
Why can't you see me? Why can't you see me? Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.
~Beyoncé
(Still 2014 Flashback)
Beyoncé's POV
"Don't touch me!" I yelled at him.
"Bey," he said trying to touch me again.
"Don't fucking touch me!" I yelled at him again.
"Beyonce, listen. Let me explain."
"I said don't fucking touch me," I replied and shoved him back hard.
"Let me explain."
"I do not want a fucking explanation for why you shoved your dick in another bitch. Do you know how fucking dumb you've made me look? I'm pretty sure yo little ugly ass friends knew about it, didn't they? And you had the smiling in my face having me fucking stupid," I shouted. My mom had taken Blue for the night.
"Be-"
"Did I tell you that you could talk? I'm talking right now. You could've told me you weren't happy, but nooooo. You wanted to fuck another bitch. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
"I-" without thinking my hand connected with his face.
"Stop interrupting me while I'm talking," I said through my teeth, "Get out!"
"What?"
"Get out! I don't want you here!" I shouted at him and he just left. I picked up the first picture of us and threw it across the room. The sound of the glass shattering made me happy. I threw pictures in every direction. I broke his favorite glasses, scratched his face out of our wedding photo. I sat on the sofa with a bottle of whiskey in my hands. I took the cap off and threw it. I downed the entire bottle before throwing it at the tv.
I wanted to revenge.
I hated him.
How would he have felt if I fucked someone else?
If I stayed out late?
If I constantly lied not only to him but to our daughter?
I was fucked up to a point I didn't take make up or gown off. I ended up falling asleep on the sofa and was awakened by someone knocking on the door obnoxiously. I groaned and got up. I dragged my body to the door and opened it.
"God damn! What the fuck happened in here?" Solange asked.
"That cheating son of a bitch is what fucking happened," I told her and groaned loudly.
"You smell like a bar," she gagged and I rolled my eyes.
"Is there something that you want?" I asked.
"Don't catch an attitude with me."
"I don't have an attitude. You're being loud and I'm tired with a hangover. I'm gonna ask you again. Is there something you want?"
"I just came to check up on you after yesterday night."
"I'm not the one you were hitting in the elevator," I replied making her roll her eyes.
"You seem to be very nonchalant about it."
"Everything that happens to him, he deserves it."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"Divorce him."
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Girl, you must be tripping. Leave his ass. He fucked another bitch."
"What about Blue?"
"Blue will be alright. She'll understand. Once she gets older, she might resent her dad. But other than that it'll be fine," Solange said as she put food on a plate, "here it'll help with the hangover."
"Thanks," I replied as she handed my some pain medicine, juice and food.
"No problem," she said and sat down next to me at the island.
"I'm gonna have to clean all this shit up," I said to myself. I took the medicine and started eating.
"I'll help you," Solange said with her mouth full of food.
"That's gross," I told her and lightly popped her like my mother would've if she had seen her.
"Momma has Blue?" she asked.
"Yeah," I mumbled. We finished eating and started cleaning up. Solange left after we cleaned almost everything up. The door opened revealing the last person that I wanted to see.
"What happened in here?" he asked.
"You are what happened. Leave," I said feeling my anger rise.
"Bey, I just want to talk."
"Sucks, because I don't want to talk nor do I give a fuck."
"Bey, come on."
"Nope, go back to that bitch."
"Why are acting like this?"
"Bitch, you're asking why I'm acting like this as if you didn't cheat on me with some mediocre, white bitch?" I asked and threw the whiskey bottle at him. He was lucky that I missed.
I picked up another bottle and hit him in the forehead. I chuckled bitterly.
"Leave. Don't think about it coming," I told him before going in the bedroom. I locked the door behind me.
Don't hurt yourself.
Sorry for any grammatical errors.
