Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Pressing charges

Memories of you have hidden in tomorrow’s corner

like a big black cat

purring, thunder, rain and rage,

police doors opening questions and you crying ,

“but I love you ”

until I agree not to press charges

hobbling over broken glass on the grass outside our bedroom

where you throw lamps and potted plants

“because you had a bad day”

I am so sick

of your bipolar shadow lurking, threatening, whining

on the edge of my lashes.

Get your thumb sucking, tantrum throwing ass out here and fight me like a man.

Yeah, that’s right you heard me and my five foot five,

small boned clenched wrists,

quivering around the edges of an hour glass

Get the hell out here

We’re finishing this.

Right.

Now.

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

2 comments

  1. This is very powerful Kimberly and I wish, women who are abused and in an abusive relationship would finally have the same courage. It’s not easy, we all know that, but people like you (speaking up) makes it possible.

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