Ivy L. James
“a young girl trapped in one hellfire sermon after another”
You pulled on a dress
your mother had sewn by hand.
Sundays were for morning church,
family lunch at home, and
evening church. You pulled on
tights that itched, that
were never long enough for your legs.
Wednesdays, too, were for
evening church. You reread the
passage from Hebrews
that you had memorized to earn candy.
Monday through Friday were for
school, also at church. You hadn’t
yet learned you could argue or run.
All you had was freeze or fawn,
and you were good at them both. Saturdays
were for extracurriculars—
sports and spelling bees—
where mistakes were one step from sin.
To you, the word trauma was for
soldiers, not twelve-year-old girls pressured
to promise to stay pure for their husbands.
The only self-identifier you were allowed was
“Christian.” You got “spontaneous” nose bleeds
every week; you didn’t know why,
but you did know to swallow your big emotions because
your heart was a liar, not to be trusted. So you swallowed and bled
and swallowed and bled
and swallowed
and bled.
Ivy L. James wrote her first story on Post-it notes as a child. Since then, she has graduated to regular paper and enjoys writing queer romance and poetry. Her poetry chapbooks include The Orange and Pink Sunset and A Necklace of Teeth (Dogleech Books). Her work has appeared in The Stygian Collection (Stygian Society), Seers and Sybils (Brigids Gate Press), Horns (Bullshit Lit), HerStry, Snowflake Magazine, and Scavengers Literary Magazine, among others. Ivy lives in Maryland with her wife and their corgi, cat, and two snakes. You can connect with her at www.authorivyljames.com.
