I think I’m what you want,
until I see what you really want.
The Perfect DaughterTM.
How do I let go of this ideal that doesn’t even exist?
How do I keep existing when my family makes it feel like I don’t?
If I could I would burst into flame,
crackling like bay leaves laced with wishes.
——
See, drama class wasn’t big enough for me, and
the high school play wasn’t big enough for me, and
my private school,
my country town,
my bedroom –
they couldn’t contain me and
I longed to get away.
Even now my brain and
my heart and
my womb seep through the walls and
leak into other rooms.
Not even golden locks can us hold back.