Like the Jellyfish

Like a jellyfish washed up on the shore,
that girl is too scary to help.
Compassion mostly extends to cute things
or things that look most like us,
small noses and big eyes,
too safe to be careful.

You either make meaning
or you find meaning

and that can be good or bad.

Finally Gone

"i need help,"
she said.
and i pictured
the raccoon we saw,
its insides exposed,
leaving a trail
where tires carelessly
drew rushed lines.
i drew a rushed line
from my mouth:
"i am so sorry."
i grabbed her hand,
fumbled with it,
wet clay in my palm.
"let's go.
let's get you what you need."
we flew above the scene
as shapeless ghosts.
below, we saw the raccoon,
reborn,
running away
from its shell,
safe for the moment,
and everything became
smaller and smaller
until it was finally gone.

A Freshly-paved Parking Lot

Heaven is a freshly-paved parking lot,
(empty,)
tar burning
our nostrils when we breathe,
and I am the child
in the carpeted van,
looking out of the blue-tinted window
(cracked only just):
some small angel,
yellow wings,
carries a fluffy dog in a handbag.
The dog's eyes are covered
(but I look for them anyway).
The angel hurries along,
her bare feet pattering.
The surprisingly fleshy soles
clap against uneven pavement.
"Look here," says a voice
(and I am reminded that I'm not alone).
"Look to me."
And he cradles my round face in his hands.
And I am fresh,
empty,
secure in my seat
as we finish loading the car and leave.

Diversion

You break
into my house
and complain
to me
that there's nothing
here to steal.

the last thing I said

It was April
and I asked
"Is it OK
to still tell you
that I love you?"
You never replied.

Another Brief Open Letter About My Public Fatness

                  Artist: Marelly


No one is introducing new information to me by calling me fat, and despite reclaiming the label for myself, it does still sting to hear it over and over from people who are not fat.

Today, I was reminded of why I rarely post full-body pictures of myself on social media. I worry about the comments. And, sure enough, after posting some photos from my recent travels, I received some comments about my large body, that I look "swollen," as if many bees had stung me and "left me to die."

Existing while fat is obnoxious. I am regularly made to feel undesirable, stupid, and inferior because of my size. I want to love and respect myself, but there have been many obstacles in my way. Some of those obstacles have been misconceptions about fat folks, etc, but some of those obstacles have been actual people in my life, saying things to me that replay in my mind.

Ugly comments make me feel ugly. And when ugly comments are abundant, they feel truthful. And it's hard to love myself and have something else, something positive, be truthful when I'm overwhelmed by discouragement.

So, there are outside factors that determine low self-esteem, and all the positive self-talk in the world can only do so much to reframe and resituate one's perceptions. If you are someone who hates fat people, maybe take a moment to consider how you may be impacting someone else's life and well being.

To be clear, I and others like me aren't asking to be coddled, but laying off the online and offline comments about someone's weight might be cool, because our bodies are our business, and many of us are doing a lot to try to keep said business open and (quasi) flourishing. Patronize us if you want, but fuck you.

Sallow Colorado

I am in a place I'd never been, tired as hell, and I still can't get out of bed. It is lunchtime where I'm from, but not here, not where the buildings hug the center of where I am, where I am pocket-sized and fragile.

Instead of preparing for "professional activities," I am thinking about boys and being rejected by them. Each little heartache is a reminder that I believe lies too easily. I thought of my self-pity and looked out of my hotel room window at some birds. They aren't pathetic. Perhaps they don't ever feel sorry for themselves. I'm a weighted, flightless bird (or broad, or dame, or girl) who can't help but get in my own way.

The light found meaning in my path just then, and I'm reminded that it is still morning here. While hope is futile and fickle and only latches on when it wants something, light is eternal and judgment-free. It framed some perfect wisdom about having feelings I no longer want to have.

Girl Dreams

One day
I will be beautiful
enough
to love.

Radio Edit (Part 2)

"Oh, Diane," I said, looking at her orange face, "she told me why she was a bad person, and I'm besides myself."

Diane was intrigued. She showed it by raising her carefully-caterpillared brows. Both of them, at the same time.

"Why, Tony?" She finally whispered.

I leaned in.

"She thinks the Bauhaus version of 'Ziggy Stardust' is better than the original."

"Oh," she replied. "Oh my god."

"And that's not all," I said, my eyes wide with horror. "She loves Bob Evans, Diane. Bob Evans!"

"Wait, don't they have that unlimited pasta bowl?"

"No, Diane," I sighed, frustrated. "They're the ones with the turkey and dressing year-round."

"Oh," she replied. "Oh my god."

For Lowell

The wind breathes
through the reeds
and the spaces in branches
between delicate leaves,
and the frail ones dance,
fleeting grace,
and land softly
where you are,
where I can no longer find you,
where I can only feel
where you once were.

Constant

I am (woefully) constant
but not enough to be a habit,
not enough to be good or bad,
just around:
a dull headache,
a florescent hum,
a period instead
of a question mark.
I am just
there,
unexciting but
reliable,
and I want so much to be missed.

Everything You Need

I finish my makeup in the car, where the light is better, and I can see what I'm doing. I sit in the parking lot for about twenty minutes, before I am officially early somewhere. The trick is to leave everything you need in various compartments: tweezers in the sunglasses spot, hairbrush in the arm rest, powder in one of the cup holders. I did not learn this from anyone. I took it up as someone who always felt the need to be somewhere, wanted by someone else, who could look fairly pretty at a moment's notice.

Dating Profile Template

Hi, I'm _______________. I'm so happy to meet you. What are some of your hobbies or pastimes? Mine include getting kicked when I'm already down, being lied to, and biting my nails as if they were made of candy. Yum. Oh, and I like beaches and "having fun" and waiting until I get home to shit.

Wonderful

I am not wonderful,
but I am trying
to fall in love
with myself
instead of you,
and hold my own face
towards a light,
as any light will do.

Just a Little Bit

You expect to grow older
so you get just a little bit older.

You expect to feel each word
like a cobweb tickling
and it startles you
and you want it
to be over quickly.

You keep this room
tidy
spare
and warm
in hopes someone will
traipse in soon
and call it home.

You expect them to use you
so you get comfortable
just a little bit
just enough for them to tell you
they will stay.

The Good News

where is the good news

a temporary placement
on your kitchen table,
flowers need you every day,
but they are temporary

so, where is the good news

is it there in your dreams,
where your loved ones visit you
with their childhood stories,
with their smiles

and attention just for you

each embrace feels
like forgiveness, like the swift
peeling away of loneliness,
until the morning comes

each night,
a temporary placement,
and you are a child,
a fucking child

swathed in myths and softness,

like the world

wants to break you