You tell me that you’ve been loving
Old school rap lately
And send me a song that you promise has been a bop
For a month now
And suddenly I’m reminded that you love
To change your tastes

How you listen to a song on repeat until the lyrics
Leave a sour taste in your mouth
And suddenly you want nothing to do
With it

Maybe you got tired of listening to me
Late nights in your car and movies on your couch
Became stale
And you looked for something new
To peak your interest

I have a habit of loving a song forever
Once I fall in love with it I never stop listening
Maybe that’s why I still feel torn up
And you’ve moved on and we don’t talk anymore
But you never miss an opportunity
To show me your changed taste
Each month
New songs filling up my Spotify
I make playlists with titles like heartbreak
And hazel eyes
Entirely made up of your music that changes
Like the seasons

Growing up all I wanted was to be pretty
My dreams and ambitions
Revolved around physical aspects of myself
I always told myself that I would be better if I was
Skinnier
Or prettier
And eventually I couldn’t tell the difference between
Want and need

I was convinced my depression would go away
If I was 100 pounds lighter
If my skin was clearer
That I’d be more talented if I was a size zero
Because then I’d be able to write about happiness
And someone loving me back
Instead of being sad all the time

If I could tell my younger self one thing
It would be that you were not put on this earth
Just to be pretty

So now I tell myself that I am brave
And strong and resilient
I lived through parts of my life that should’ve defeated me
But I’m still standing here
And maybe I would be happy if I was a size zero
But I need to learn what happiness feels like
Without beauty getting in the way

Laying around
about the dorm room
Bored
Looking for quick
Stupid cash
We came upon a listing
My roommate and I
in the local paper
Artist models needed
No experience necessary
That was key

The guy on the phone was chirpy
He lived
Close by in Oakland
He gave us directions to where
He would pick the two of us up
We
Would take the bus
He would be in a station wagon
Beige

He met us sure enough
Old
Old as the ******* sea
Formal suit and tie
Maybe a hat
We drove back to the apartment
And entered
First my roommate
And then myself

A ****** yellowed set of rooms
Where we will be heading to the right
To the kitchen
I’ve noticed the battered ***** *****
Mattress
Also
To the right
Stains and an attached clamp lamp
A single stark bulb

We were greeted by an even chirpier young lady
She was like a baby Joan Jett
All rocker black and leather
Sleek hair slicked back
She seemed somehow to like
really really old men

She took over and reached
for the plastic folder
She handed it to us
“You need to look at this before we go on
This is what we do”

Obediently, we cracked it open
and peered inside
Bent over we studied
Sticky plastic pages
Of brightly faced girls
Page
After
Page
Smiling with awkward innocence
No bright eyes nor youthful effanescance
No desire
Nothing wet
Except their palms with thoughts of escape
And 100 dollars

I only remember the girls whose makeup faded around the neck to betray
the true color of their flesh
Not flushed at all with sticky expectation
They left no impression in their nakedness
Ghosts
Shades
They should have been in class or doing something else

But our Joan!
Joan was a star.
Her photos were full of sass and delight
She was more than happy
to show you her ******
Over and over and over
She said
Actually
it’s a club
The guys pay a monthly fee
And they come here and shoot
In the apartment or maybe outside
They cannot touch.
There is no *******.
Mostly they shoot
Me.

Alone.
A Pixie Star.
This was were that old man’s money was.

I don’t remember what she told us
What she used to do before
this had to be a moment
A rather short moment
She would move along because
This kink was overstuffed with
impotence
and ineptitude.
Kink that might be easier to deal
With
On a properly lit stage
Or a quiet motel room with the shades drawn
Cash up front.

But for now
She was the enterprise.
And what would he do without her?
We three giggled and guffawed
in the little kitchenette.
We weren’t game for the arrangement.
She knew that.
But she liked to talk.
Men like that are pathetic.

Seriously why would we do this?
All those faces in the book!
Four on a page
Excitedly, we thought that we recognized
One or two
I know her!
Look I know her! I’ve seen her
in the Poli-Sci Building!
I’m sure we did not know any of them.

The mattress.
I could not fathom what happened on that thing.
I don’t want to know.
I had to look the other way as we left.
Did he perform
Abortions?
With hangers and kitchenware
Can ******* be that messy?
Just opening your legs?

We said goodbye to her!
She was wonderful.
She would sparkle forever.
Joan Jett!
Piling back into this hoarder’s
station wagon amongst
the musty boxes and newspapers
strewn all over the backseat with us
He drove
to the bus stop
A waste of his time
Disgruntled
Failure

He asked
How should this ad read
so that
this doesn’t happen again?
We offered no suggestions.
It had been fun
However idiotic.
I don’t remember
how long it was that
we kept our bus trip
secret.

Illness from within.
Still I wish to end
This rotting of my corpse.
If not with sheer force,
Let nature take course.

Aching and bleeding inside,
There's nowhere to hide.
All the yelling and screaming,
With feeble meaning,
It's taking its toll
On my fragile soul.

Dark is all I see.
Longing liberty
For the sight of Sun,
What's done is now done.

Today I showered for the first time in 6 days / I changed my clothes after 2 weeks / somehow it all feels better this way /

I ate breakfast at the table / alone / and I didn’t cry / I sat there for longer than I had to / let the sun from my windows warm me up / and for the first time in months / I felt okay again /

I took a nap mid day / worried I’d wake up further behind than I was before / but my chest was still light / my bones weren’t weighing me down / I’m beginning to see / that happiness can last more than an hour /

Tonight I’ll go to the store / I’ll buy food I probably won’t eat / and I’ll see someone I went to high school with / and maybe I’ll cry in the bathroom / but maybe I won’t / I’m learning how to deal with other people seeing me /

I don’t know if I’ll feel this way tomorrow / or if I’ll wear these clothes for 3 weeks / not leaving my bed / but I pray tomorrow is easier / I hope I’ll wake up and see the sun / eat lunch somewhere other than my bed / I hope my body remains light / like it’s supposed to be /