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anon Oct 2017
thanks
no i mean it

thanks

i was actually feeling a bit
d                          
o                  
w        
n

and­ i needed you to tell me
on a monday night
at 7:53
in the middle of july

that i had i nice ***

it really brightened my day
to know
that i
a human person

can be complimented
because of my
assets

instead of the fact
that i work
all the time
without getting tired
or giving up

or that
i study
so much
i feel like
i'm falling apart

or that
i spend time
trying to make the world
around me
a little
bit
better

i really wanted to affirm
what girls are told
from the time
they can listen

that cup size matters
and whether or not
you fill out your jeans
means
whether or not
you might matter

that we will be ignored
in the work place
if we aren't
supermodels

and even if we are
that is all we become

bodies

not people

you know
somebody once told me
it doesn't matter
what you look like
because your personality can make up
for anything

which should be good
like
i look like quasimodo
but with a sense of humor
and a bit of *****
i'm esmerelda

i can look like a spork
but if i laugh
and play along
like nothing's wrong
like girls should
i can be a full fork

i love that i have to be something

really

i do

i love that being
is more important than
existing

i love that i have to be someone who listens and never speaks

i love that i have to work with all my might to be thin enough for people who don't care about other people

i love that i have to have a double d and up in order to be even noticed

i love that my **** has to be filled out and gigantic so that i can be assured personhood by a man

because girls are only

what

the

men

see

we are reduced to objects
who give up
and don't fight

because the women who fight
are criticized
and *****
and killed
and we can't stop it

because the more we speak

the more we are silenced

so thank you
sir

for reminding me at 7:53
in a menards parking lot
your wedding ring glinting
like the malice in your eye
that all i am
is
what you see
Clay Powell Dec 4
Seeing My Dad Struggle

Growing up my dad always had problems. That's the main reason I'm not in his custody.
Recently Something went down, it was a dark day in February. My grandma and I had to
fill up on gas at Marathon. We had seen an ambulance at Menards. It didn't really dawn on us but I jokingly said “watch it be my dad”. We drove home. I have always loved
Driving home and looking outside the window is beautiful. When we get home we let our
dog out. I carried in firewood, and fed the deer. When I got inside I relaxed and suddenly
my grandma got a call that it was my dad. I thought “oh god what is it now”. My grandma
said we needed to hurry back to town. My dad was in the hospital. When we walked into the hospital my heart was racing, and thoughts ran through my head “I hope he’s okay”. My grandma asked “is Joseph Powell here?” the nurse nodded and we went to his room. When I walked in I instantly felt a lump in my throat, I wanted to cry. I saw my dad lying there staring at the ceiling, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably and his blood pressure was near 200. He apologized to me saying he never wanted me to see him like that. He would start puking in a bag. The room smelled like alcohol, cigarettes and it had that hospital smell. His voice was shaky and it made my eyes start to tear up, I knew I had to stay strong for him. The nurses were working hard finding him a detox. They finally found one and they were going to keep him there until a treatment bed opened up in the state. All that ran through my head was “Why does god let addiction happen” I felt like puking, I just wanted my funny, kind, outgoing dad again. Why did he have to fall victim to addiction? When they transferred him over he always called constantly. Years of dealing with my dads addiction I finally figured out that even when I went through treatment and withdrawal that you can't change someone who doesn't want to change, no matter how hard you try they need to change for themselves. All that trauma I went through wasn't my fault and in that moment seeing my dad I finally realized that. Like a quote from ‘beautiful boy’ says “If you could take all the words in the English language, it still wouldn't describe how much I love you.” Love won’t fix an addict unless they want to be fixed. My dad is currently 17 days sober and in detox.
wrote this months ago as a descriptive essay in class

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