You always told me that my poetry was too dark and
Depressing and if only I wrote about something happy
For once, maybe I would be happy, too.
That’s the problem.
I was. Some days
Were just sad and fucked up. Some days I just wanted
To run the bath water and slip under the faucet and
Drown because the rest of life- yeah, poor me-
Was too much to handle.
Well, you want a happy poem?
The weather is beautiful today. The leaves on
The trees are turning orange and red and brown.
I can walk outside without a sweater and the
Air on my skin is refreshing.
I went to Starbucks, I had a latte and it was delicious.
I saw a huge yellow Labrador retriever on my way
To work and he was the most excited dog
I think I’ve ever seen at 8:15 am.
I’m having a great hair day, every strand is where
It needs to be. I cleaned my desk and I can look
Outside and marvel at the way the sun is beaming
Down onto the window shields in the parking lot.
I’m sorry I became so negative. I’m sorry I stopped
Listening to Jim Croce and Creedance Clearwater Revival.
Actually, I never listened to Croce much to begin with
So I immediately take that back.
Somewhere, inside of me, I’m still her, still me.
I see me in the mirror when all of my make-up
Has been washed off of my eyelids.
Sometimes, I’d like to blame therapy because
I used to be blissfully ignorant about my deep-rooted issues.
Sure, I had melt downs and I’ve tried to kill myself.
But at least I thought I was normal for doing it.
Don’t think I’m not me. Just because I look different
And I cut my hair and now I wear denim.
I’m still me, and I always will be. It’s just been
One helluva fucked up ride working through
My shit.
And the leaves, yes the leaves,
They are beautiful.
Everything is beautiful.
Lay Down Sally
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