Rachel Inez Lane
Goodnight, You

Oh, I need muses. I need the ghosts
of Tammy Wynette and Patsy Cline
to appear in a cloud of hairspray,
hit me upside the head, and twang—
Why!? Why!? Why!?

And when I tell them, ‘Cause I’m hurting,
Patsy will peek out my window
crow’s feet glittering, and by the middle
of this place called Lonely Street,
my voice will tiptoe out, and I’ll remember
how I lost her—

at eighteen, men took so much of me
my insides became a birdcage
I kept bills in until I could
get home, crack

myself open, and count every
I’ll take care of you
like green sheep before sleep,
and in my heart of hearts,
my ace of spades, I wish

I could fall asleep as safe as the rabbit
in Goodnight, Moon,
except I’ll say goodnight to all those he-men
out there. I’ll compose an email,
CC: The Moon, and write:

Dearest Sisters,
Let’s all say goodnight
to the old guy in the chair who wraps
his arm around you when you refill
his beer. Goodnight, Pretty Woman.
Goodnight, girls named Bella
and Daisy, too. Goodnight, Baby.

Goodnight, Come on, baby. Goodnight,
But I was whiskey drunk, baby. Damn,
baby, and to every, Please don’t leave me,
baby! because I should have
right when I saw all that blonde hair
all over your bed. So goodnight,

you classy prince, you. To signatures that say:
“ I, ______, will stay twenty feet
away from the Plaintiff.” Goodnight,
to being the plaintiff, to Tell it from the top
he tried to run me over with his truck,
and to anyone who ever says

You deserve better, like we didn’t already know
from the moment we were born,
from the moment we felt the prick
of the needle against our earlobe—
and I dug my mascaraed face so hard
into his chest, I saw myself
as a Rorschach the moment
I stepped back. So goodnight, moon.
Have a change

of tide. Be kind. Let me be a satellite,
so I can reach out and tell
those crooked cardboard stars I shouldn’t
have to wait on them to wish.
I am ready to steady this weapon, aim
for my past, and shoot.

Rachel Inez Lane
Rachel Inez Lane is a Nashville-based writer. She holds an MFA from Florida State University and her work has appeared in LA Review, Rattle, Nimrod, Mississippi Review, and The Normal School.