For Sacha Shapiro Emerson and Dr. Dominic J. Maxwell. You two saved my life.
Inspired by "Last Hope" by Paramore.
Whenever I had pride
three months prior to this
and two years before that
it was covered in dirt, stains, faded kiss marks that were the shade of blackberries when your teeth bit into them.
I realized it was too much for people to handle.
I tried to wash it myself
but the detergent always spilled
asking for help was scary
because i realized that if I needed help washing my pride, it was dirtied up pretty good, and that scared me.
I could not throw that away; everyone needs it
I went to the laundry mat
A lady helped me
and it took two months
before we could start to see
it unstained and warm
clean like everyone else’s
The fact that I could see how pleased she was
made me keep going
The fact that she had a smile on her face every time we would meet to do my laundry together.
Sometimes she asked me to go home and deterge it myself
Scared as I was, I did it
When it was filthy
I always wore it underneath a BCBG cocktail dress
and stiletto heels
I used to jump on trampolines in them
And do back flips for an unknown reason
The sun still blazed at night
It harvested the shooting stars that came flying into my brain
It was distorted
Only Needing Three Hours Sleep
I was buzzing with excess alcohol and caffeine
that I did not actually consume for it was hardwired into my chaos that was naturally brewed and governed by the flow of the chemicals in my body
I forgot about the filthiness underneath
the hyperactive arrogance smothered in wanting to have unprotected sex and a bag of weed and the anger it had the potential to harvest and thoughts
I could not slow down
because it was disguised in creativity, loss of fatigue, and happiness
Until I was stripped of all the clothes I was wearing
And I was given nothing but a different dirty T-shirt
different, but still a dirty T-shirt
It was called Insecurity
I had that much longer than Pride
People were uncomfortable to be around me;
there was no covering the T-shirt...
The Insecurity Shirt
It covered me in the only sample of rancid honey in the world
And it turned black
when
it reached my tired, achey hands
Can you imagine?
Black Rancid Honey?
Bees would sting me
trying to see what I had done to their beloved glop.
Those bees hurt.
The stings contained
heaps of melancholy
rows of guilt
sleepless nights
leadened limbs
not enough food to curb my appetite
sluggish mornings
walls of hope
collapsed
lost thoughts
but thoughts that screamed
why do I have to participate
in life?
nobody likes me
and those bees... they wouldn’t go away
One of them happened to sting
both of my lips
and my lips didn’t swell. They had two little painful holes in the center
of each
and so I could speak of only words that stung
And so I didn’t speak very much, except with her; the lady at the laundry mat
She helped me throw the T-shirt away
(or at least put in the attic in a plastic bag)
somedays, those
ugly shirts
fly back
and I am
counting every pound
right down to the ounce
but I am able to throw those shirts
back in my regular washing machine
at home
and I know how to put on the detergent
She Still Has To Remind Me How To Do That
but I am doing it
I am able to tell myself to be content with the 72.2
and not the 38.0
I am able to put vaseline and cocoa butter
on my lips now so I can smile instead of keeping my lips pulled in, pursed, punctured, prodded, and shut with a
fucked--up
messy
padlock
I Am Able To Smile
And I Am Able To
know when I should trade in high heels for sneakers
Sometimes, I don’t want to, but I know there will surely be residual blisters on my feet
if I don’t
And likewise, I have to balance my feet
physically, too
I am a spastic kingdom
I am a palsied empire
I am bipolar
Welcome To My Silly Life
I hope you enjoy your stay
My life is a balance beam.
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