Perfectionist
every Pretty Little
Decent American White girl
with straight teeth
and light eyes
she could do anything
if she followed the rules
that's what you told her
like a Wholesome Healthy Attractive
Heterosexual White American parent
you hid the truth
from her
it's for her
own good
the television whispers
long strange words
hold her at night
sit in her ear
Bulimia
Anorexia Nervosa
Binge Eating Disorder
girls like her
understand their meanings
but it's not enough
the words aren't
big enough
loud enough
can you hear
that?
a million voices
scream
in each syllable
"beauty is
on the inside"
speak for yourself
she doesn't recognize her body
in the mirror
she was taught to look for
flaws and imperfections
not individuality
girls like us
we learn fast
to be anything
you want us to be
You can’t paint the Mona Lisa Twice
I used to be a wife
I will always be a mother
Every action mapped out to accommodate
children and a busy husband
Every mealtime and talk planned around
gymnastics and soccer games
Prom dresses and broken ankles
Snow boarding and pasta dishes
Beds made with white clean tucked sheets
Baby powder and hospital corners
Football in the front yard with the boys
Shopping sprees and giggles with the girls
Dips in the pool at night to steal
away the beautiful blue of my husbands eyes
"Sweetheart, I picked up the dry cleaning."
Peck on the cheek before pancakes and
work to make every frazzled end meet
Effort that people that have not done it
Can or will never comprehend
Tear wiping
Laundry folding
Floor mopping
Toilet scrubbing
No sleep
Dark eyes and sometimes forced smiles
I enjoyed every minute of it
and every day I praised the existence of coffee
The dissolution of my marriage was a mutual choice
A well thought out discussed
respectful division
of two exhausted souls
Both brilliant in our way
Both fighters to the end
It was quite the test of character
For us both
We survived it all
and our children
are as close to perfect
human beings
that we could have ever hoped for
For this effort we are proud
Every heart warming leap of success
Worth it
Every heart wrenching fall of failure
Worth it
I find it often funny
Alone in the desert the questions from strangers
"why are you single?" Choice
"what brought you here?" Work
"where are you from?" California
"who do you spend time with?" Art
Nobody knows your story
or your life in simple terms
I am thankful for my prose family
A place where freedom of expression
Exists fully with awe and respect
Not judgment
Happy Thanksgiving Prosers
Keep writing
Keep living
Keep being true
To yourself
remember to be patient
when things stop making sense
the answers will inevitably arrive
They don't have to make sense to everyone
They just have to make sense to you
Blessings