59 lines
1.3 KiB
Markdown
59 lines
1.3 KiB
Markdown
---
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category:
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- Poem
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ratings: G
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date: 2018-04-01
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type: post
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tags:
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- Gender
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- Poetry
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title: Somehow, she's me
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---
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<pre class="verse">
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Her hair is tied with a ribbon
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Saying "This is not for you."
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She wears a pendant of stamped brass
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Saying "Non sum qualis eram."
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"I have been a hero since birth,"
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She tells herself,
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As though that will somehow
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Explain her scars.
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She pierced her own ears,
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But did a shit job of it.
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Her tattoos tease around
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the edges of her identity.
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Her bones are ley-lines,
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She tells herself,
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Strung with symbols
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Heady with meaning.
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She has a certain "fuck you" inflected
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"Je ne sais quoi" about her.
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Her clothes bespeak
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carefully constructed laziness.
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"I've got my own style,"
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She tells herself,
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While doing all she can
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To not be seen.
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She studied order through science
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and found it chaotic.
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She studied chaos through music
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and found it inviable.
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"I'll work with words."
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She tells herself
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She'll write a book,
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Or publish stories.
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She wanted to be a bus driver
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when she grew up.
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Then a linguist, then a biologist,
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Then a composer, a conductor.
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She never wanted to be
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What she became;
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The irony of which
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Is not lost on her.
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</pre>
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