manual

i was one who was taught
to be quiet whenever
i laughed too loud, got too angry or hurt too much
and when the guilt i felt for breathing came crawling out of my skin
i knew nothing in the world was better quiet, and a lil nyquil
i was taught fear

girls like me were ugly enough to be hit
and pretty enough to be forgotton
with our boring brown eyes
and sincere “i love you”

and when life said bend bend bend or break
i sat there twisted as a pretzel
on the verge of tears, still smiling

so if i can hand you an explanation
a manual of sorts
before you get lost in the romance of courting
before you do what you can to get what you want
before you disappear

don’t waste your time with decorations
not for me at least

i am not going to bite your head off
or curse your mother for creating you
i’ll most likely curse that god i’ve got hanging on the wall

good or bad and let me deal with how much
truth you have

because by nature i have quiet footsteps
because by experience i have logic
because i might just like you
but not as much as i like me

you see my knees are scratched and sore from
praying and
blow jobs

both done with everything in me

and if you desire, feel free to lock the door behind me
because there is good reason to believe i’m not coming back

i am still sensitive to the weight of promises and gossip

to a little alcohol and sex

i’m sewing the wholes in my pockets
but now i’m reading instead of screwing,
sighing instead of crying,
and planning instead of forgetting

and if you ask me i’d say that it sounds like a life without much room left for
an alarm clock, a waiting room or a polygraph test
now, sweet sweet sweetness,
i like you, isn’t it obvious by the way
i say with a smile, “that’s something charming” about you when you aren’t around
and say “hello, baby” when you call (only the second word is silent)

and when you say “hi beautiful” i cover up the fact that i heard you by making up a nonsense joke about red butterflies going across the moon
cover up how much i like the way it sounded,
its like hearing you say it is an exclamation point to how you make me feel.

because i like my autonomy and those sub-sort-of-lover clothes
i used to wear no longer fit me i won’t tell you how
the next time we meet i’ve schedule time with my mirror
to stand alone in front of to take inventory of my ribs, two legs, my bellybutton
my heart

i will say out loud to the army which is my body
“prude!” i will say “whore!”

i will laugh really loud at my absurdity
and see how my body parts react
and find something in between, to wear.

before i see you i will say i need nothing and know that it is true
i will curse any fear in you
and believe you’ve none
i will pretend i am going down on a rollercoaster and my stomach
is giggling and i will pack a puzzle of color beneath my eyelids in case i get bored
since i glued all my broken parts back together there is very little i fear anymore
so i am ready for you to love me, forget me, move me, remove me

i am ready to remember your twitching fingers on my skin as you fall asleep
i am ready for the fairytale of the song that is being played on my hip bone.
i am also ready for you use me against every good intention you had
or for you to like someone just that much more than me
i am ready to hear that you say that you hope i understand how special i am
(i do, i do, i do)
i really do, so don’t you fret.
because there is honesty and integrity
and curiosity and bravery
there is pain and survival and
gains and losses
and smiles and tears and that’s not all there is
there are warm baths and glasses of wine
and a good books and enough time
there are dancing in chaos or in the comfort of socks
there is you and there is me
there is me…
i was one who was taught to be afraid
but regardless,
along the way I've learned not to fear.