nothing like you and I
there is nothing like you and I
nothing is like you and me
me and you
there is nothing like us
we're not peas in a pod or
peanut butter and bread
or two heart beating in synchronization when the moon is full
there is nothing like us
and I think that is beautiful

There is a girl in my French class
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

This girl in my French class
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

There is a girl in my French class
And she is interesting
And she is smart
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

This girl in my French class
She is wondrous
She is talented
And she is interesting
And she is smart
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I will never be her

I stared at my nakedness in the bathroom mirror
And all the dips and curves my lines made
And I tied my short hair down to my head
(I am womanly
I am smooth
I am strong)
My belly protrudes with the secrets of the world
And my ******* hold the prayers of many
(I am warm
I am rough
I am weak)
My hips carry the children of the night
And my lips speak the words you are so afraid to say
*(I am here
I am there
I am gone)

Trigger Warning**
I often imagine how I would react if it turns out you have died
It would explain why you haven't responded to my text messages
Or why I haven't heard about the purge
purge
purging you do
or the fight
fighting
fighting your parents are a part of
I imagine myself getting a single lined text message from my mother and knowing exactly what it means
Knowing exactly how you went
Seeing your last moments in my mind
"She is gone"
"She's passed on"
"She's not here anymore"
I imagine car crashes and pill bottles and blood in the bath tub
And I know you've seen all this too
I imagine this moment so often that it often blurs with reality for me
Every time I hear an ambulance my heart stops and I think
"This is it. Be prepared."
But a text message is never received
A phone call never comes
And I am left wondering,
Do you hate me? Or are you preparing for your death as much as I am?

I am no longer natural
Deep brown as I was
Covered in wringlets
I pressed myself out
Like ironed toast

I am a variation on auburn
More like my sister
Yet clearly unnatural
I almost regret it

I bleached myself out as if changing my color would change where I came from
I am someone else
And I wonder
Am I ashamed?