Day 174 – Peach Blush

Spray tan and peach blush, all I did was try
to stand firm when I believed in everything
to fake though I knew hardly anything
they left me behind reading old magazines
fixing my bra strap under my gym shirt
I had more safety than a maxi pad in winter
nobody would question my belief
it was just old photographs, they only spoke
the truth to me, pointed out my skin’s
red badges of courage, and it took so long
to snap into place, but I got one small thing right:
peach blush is my shade

Day 173 – Home

I know what I sound like
gushing over my city, my Gondor,
but you gotta see it, man.

I didn’t build anything,
I just drank it,
and five years passed
which should have been one.

My fathers didn’t die
in these hills, nobody
who built it ever dreamed
of me-

but I got so lost exploring
what strangers have made
that one day I was home.

Day 168 – The Greats

I cannot read the greats in coffee shops-
Emily, Sylvia, Maya-
they have to wheel me out,
ask me to stop screaming.
I fear no other women
but those who can write
and I should be paralyzed by daily life
if I ever did my job of receiving right.
I live by removing phobias
and stagnate safely on until
trying no longer kills the blinking urge
and when I must I do it quietly
and never in public.

Day 165 – Kindness

They say kindness is the best beauty regimen
I guess it’s working out for me now
but I didn’t give up my fire to be wanted and clean
I scratched up my face to figure out how
it was never my fault I was haunted and mean
and the dogs smell my fresh bruises
and they come back to lick my old wounds
and the things I’ve learned, I keep to myself
but I can lie so dangerously now