I haven’t been letting myself go;
I’ve been setting my self free.
(oh have you, now?)
Do the moppy curls bother you?
Not me — I shake them back and forth,
let them breathe in spring’s new air;
it’s time to grow out.
How about the nose ring?
(mmm, a little…)
Slightly sticking out, still healing
from last minute decisions
made a few weeks back.
I have no regrets.
(you sure about that?)
Got anything to say about my froppy blue dress?
(well, some people might)
Once pressed to perfection,
it now hangs a little wrinkly
round my bony hips. No curves to fill that out.
I don’t care today.
My eyeliner’s a bit smudged. Smoky.
Oh — and it’s blue, too.
Does that bother you?
No worries; here’s an eyelash for the road.
My jeans have holes in them
not the store-bought rips; these are genuine tears
made more intentional alongside artisanal bleach stains,
splotched all over.
(like a denim cow! lol)
Well, moo to you, too.
Am I coming off a bit aggressive?
That’s not the vibe, hun, I promise.
I just feel fine
with a little imperfection.
with a lot of imperfections:
with the gaps in my bra
and the swell of my ankles,
the kink in my nose
and the off-beat half-step in my gait.
I tell myself,
willing the flawlessness to materialize
through the unity of my flaws.
All together made whole. Wholesome. Holy
hell, on days like this —
I feel on the brink.
when no one is looking,
I blink, and let the salty pools overflow,
bleed down, blue ink
trailing in their wake.
I shower many times,
But when I look in the mirror,
some blue streaks still remain.