You think that I want to be here, alone in a room that I’ve spent 15 years in, collecting dust and rubbed off skin particles in the test tubes made of hair. I never even asked to be here but bam here I am laying down in a bed that I don’t own, shedding tears that I can’t control.
You always did seem to find someway to ditch me on the playground oh so long ago. Left me playing tether ball with the apparitions that you coaxed me into believing that were there.
You would tell me that if I played nice with them that I would always win. You said that these friends had butter fingers and would let the ball swing right through their body.
But no I always won because I had nothing to lose against, it was just me and a rope, me and the wind, me and my innocence and not knowing that everyone thought I was a loser because I never lost at tether ball.
Soon girls came up to me and wanted to be my friends, so me, trying to act like a normal person put aside my surprise and followed them closely not saying a word, because I didn’t want to scare them off. They sprayed me with their mothers perfumes and lathered me in root beer flavored lip gloss that tasted nothing like root beer. Gave me chocolate flavored ice cream and gifts for Christmas, but only if I smelled like them and never looked them in the eye. Only after I stopped wearing my glossy lips and tea party get up did they leave. Apparently matte chapped lips made me less of a girl, and less of a person to be be loved.
Then I found my acceptance through others fear. I learned to take my dolls dresses and rip them apart, and wave them in the air like banners of war with silicone bodies floating in sinks left as casualties, but there were no witnesses, I started to win everything again, but this time it was war, this time it was tanks and race cars, this time it was tag and hide and go seek.
Soon, boys came up to me, wanting to be my friend and I punched them and ran for the nearest base so I couldn’t be tagged. They covered me in mud and taught me how to play flag football. Trained me for the four square Olympics and allowed me to do and be who ever I wanted. That is until training bras and cooties began spreading. Once again I was alone. I started to hit, punching my Dad in the gut as soon as I walked in the house, karate kicking the air and fighting my stuffed animals. Me hitting and Fighting the air was not for fun, it was to make sure that they were real, that they were mine. I even had to punch myself a few times. Because every time I walked by a mirror I could swear that I saw a nothing looking back, something that was probably made to be something, but failed.
Thinking that with so much beauty in this world it could at least share some with me, I hoped that this world could paint me out of the peach pallet from the sunsets in the summer, the one with the deep sun glow. Sculpt my body out of the fossilized foot prints from the places my ancestors walked on.
String my hair from the clouds that line the sky, fill the windows of my soul with the plucked stars from your sky, and line my head with flowered crowns and the most precious metal known to man. But I eventually came to the realization that I was none of these things, so I became afraid of mirrors, people, and myself all at the same time. And believed That everything I did would be a tiny spark that leaped out of a roaring fire.