i wonder today
as i walk down the street
if someone
will yell at me.

something like
"does the carpet match the drapes?"
"want a ride?"
"nice ***"
"you're just my size"
"hey ginger"

red in the head
good in bed
they say

i am glad the pictures here are in black and white.

i leaned across the sink
and let the sun touch my freckles
like i was doing him a favor
as well as myself
for once

i didn't forget that i was hurtable
i just forgot that you were capable
now i am in trouble

bloodstains are pretty
like flowers for people who are sad
or stars for people who are too in love
or little redheaded girls
who are too afraid

"it's ok"
i whisper to my arm
with the new scar
waiting to dry
"it's ok"
i whisper to my cheeks
with the salty tears
waiting to dry
"it's ok"
i say to the moon
without a face
waiting to die
"it's ok"
i whisper myself
with the cuts
waiting to die

first he kisses them
then he causes them
we cannot win
or maybe just him
or maybe just me

sometimes i pull up my shirt
look down at my bare tummy
and sigh.

why can't you be better, tummy?
why can't you be smaller
nicer
softer
better?

like a child
i am chiding
tut-tutting
at its misbehavior

tummy, i do so much for you
i skip meals
and don't drink water
and wrap you in all kinds of weird dyi concoctions
and lotions
i take pills
and cry before seeing the boy that i like
all for you,
tummy.

why can't you be
like the other ones
why must you be
the way you are?

i will fix you.

fat became
chubby
became
gorgeous
became
just me
became
ok
to be
when you
are with me