I am
a poem
I am black hair dye & red tattoos
the smudge of concealer on the right side of my driver’s seat
& the four boxes of pasta in the back of my pantry
I am a half-empty decaf iced oat milk vanilla latte
& the condensation that drips onto a coaster
five expired urban decay eyeshadow palettes
the friend who loves you but will take five days to text back
it’s not you, it’s me
I am hip bones tilted in opposite directions, the scoliosis in my shoulders,
the curve in my nose
things about me people rarely notice until I point them out
but nothing I can ignore
I am…thinking
I’ve been reading old messages & emails with a new lens
coming to terms with who I was when I was nineteen
& trying to forgive myself for being so naive
I hope I never feel this way about who I’ve been again
I am…experiencing
what it’s like to rarely sleep through the night
an unconditional love that stares back at me
life…slowly
I am 300 mg of bupropion every morning & the headaches that come with it
in addition to the loss of appetite & accidentally staying up until 4 am
since I don’t tend to notice when I’m tired anymore
can you believe this is where we are now?
it didn’t have to take this long
I am an empty wine glass catching dust in the cabinet
the Hussong’s Reposado tequila in the pantry,
the 2019 Sterling Vineyards Malvasia Bianca sitting on my dresser,
& a bottle of vodka in the freezer only opened for spicy rigatoni
I am returning back to myself
after feeling unrecognizable to no one other than me for a while now
I didn’t ask anyone if they would agree but I’m assuming they wouldn’t
but I’m not convinced it’s completely unnoticed
I am confining myself to the present moment
because the future feels equally as far as it feels close
because thinking about how who I am now will impact who I am then is...scaring me daily
because no one mentioned you can still feel like a kid in your mid-twenties
beecaaauuusseeee
I am pantone 17-0215, a tight tank top, & twenty pairs of jeans
get away by lany & psycho by the wldlfe on repeat alllllll year long
& a delivery or two from abercrombie
I am a 96º room, heel-to-arch alignment, reaching my arms in opposition
trying not to pick my body apart in the mirror I’m facing, forgetting to breathe
maintaining the bend in my front knee & feeling out of place
I am the friend who will drive,
constantly reevaluating my expectations,
& probably dehydrated
I am
apparently
not worth losing,
good company,
& worth calling