#1516

When I look in the mirror I see a body that doesn’t feel like mine. A body that contains too many lives, too many loves, too many worlds to be bound to one frail, finite physical form. It’s not that these aren’t my eyes; it’s that my eyes are also emerald green and obsidian black and violent as the ocean in storm. And it’s not that these aren’t my lips; it’s that my lips should also be thinner, sharper, drawn back in a snarl or down in sorrow or up in a smile wicked and cold. I should be taller, thinner, stronger, paler; my hair should be white and black and tangled stiff with sea salt. It’s not that I’m not the girl in the mirror; it’s just that I’m not only her, either. So how can her body feel right, when it doesn’t belong to everyone I am?

#1512

website sidebar ad
“lose weight with this one weird trick!”
(a staph infection)

 

[ So guess who has been super sick the last two weeks three weeks like forever and apparently has a staph infection in her mouth and has lost a bunch of weight because the super strong antibiotics make her so nauseous all she can eat are cinnamon toast Eggo waffles? That would be me, the girl who internalizes her stress and emotions to such an intense degree that she physically cripples herself. Brilliant! ]

#1508

Late at night I used to comfort myself, playing on repeat the same song, prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love, because it made me feel closer to you, like I wasn’t the only weak one and maybe you would love me despite that weakness, but this time it feels like you have left me, have willfully and carelessly broken the fetters with which you bound me to yourselves, and I could fill that holy fount will my blood or tears or heartache and you still would not care, you would not come hold me as I weep because you aren’t those kinds of gods, and I have chosen poorly, haven’t I, to whom I gave my immortal soul?

#1507

so I have dragged the beast into the light
but am still too afraid to open my eyes
to face what manner of creature stalks me;
when it lurked in the shadows I could pretend it was harmless
all bark and no bite, my imagination run wild;
after all, it was only once Little Red grew suspicious
that the wolf gobbled her up;
if she had befriended the beast and called it Granny
would they be living in the cottage still?

I am trying to resist the urge
to let my beast slink back into the closet;
I am trying to teach it to heel
and walk around the block

#1506

If I think about myself as I am
a girl who’s always anxious
who speaks too loudly
who cries too often
who is graceless and tactless and intense
I fear I will be too much for you
that I will push you from my side
I wish instead I was the moon
sharp and radiant and cold
dressed in light and shadow
for as the moon I might pull at your heart
knowing you cannot resist the dance
knowing you must always follow me across the sky
faithful sun drawn in the the wake of your moon