justwrite 11 may

For someone so together that’s a lot of self-doubt that’s a lot of rooting through the grout to find the route of how she’s put together the weather changes and it’s a shift of anxieties the covering up and the turning away the looks booked from last season only starting to wear off now she is looking around and of course she doesn’t care what other people say think do but staring might be real or if might be a tweak there’s a freakout waiting somewhere in a mirror and she’s clearer than ever in being herself but there’s a shelf where nothing fits and a closet blitzed by anxious morning minutes it’s a stereotype which she’d like to be beyond especially here when it’s especially clear that no one needs to matter that they will never look again those strands will be unbraided and all will go their separate ways faded and stonewashed and acidtossed secondhand fashionable is cheap but not quite fitting and the price is twice the worry in right-shifted zippers and tiny stains with lost belts looking at pictures and shop windows there are roils of dark of self-disgust that can’t be trusted waiting for a compliment that seems to be true but not trusting if it does no you’re hardly that you’re no way fat you’re looking good and those jeans look great but here she goes to summer and it’s not a competition and it doesn’t matter anything anywho anyway but it’d be nice to breeze right through it’d be nice not to do this to herself to spend that wealth of energy in some meaningful pursuit something infinitely more useful than lame leaning toward collapsing self-esteem with reams of lines ready for dictation let’s try extraction instead and see what’s left after all see what the call answers when the closet rings in the morning and the window opens wide straight on through to the street