Broken

By Emmy Schroeder

---

You put on our funny shows and we laugh together. You

turn your head towards mine and smile.

Isn’t this fun? Just us?

But something changes.

[Before you ever call me a faggot.]

Your laughter becomes desperate. I stop returning your gaze. Your stares linger on my

face.

His shouts from downstairs,

hurting.

You unlock my bedroom door. Go to sleep. You

smile.

[Why can’t we ever be sad together, mama?]

I can hear your laughter over

the sound of the television,

or is it weeping?

---

Emmy Schroeder is from Austin, Texas. She received her undergraduate degree from Texas Tech University. Her work has been published in Screen Door Review and is forthcoming in The Sterling Spoon. She is a queer transgender woman living in Los Angeles, California.