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By Misti Date: 2003 Sep 25 Comment on this Work [[2003.09.25.22.47.4915]] |
| I'm divorcing myself. The self that I hated and loved and fought to understand for three decades of running from tornados and angry daddy dolls and masturbating in a dark ruffled bedroom with no incoming calls and no dress for the ball and no prince or toads or friendly dwarves or fairy godmother. I'm divorcing the five year old me who made up songs and skits and recorded them because I thought I was a bright enough star someone would appreciate the small earnest twinkling. I'm divorcing the me who bought an acoustic guitar with my first Burger Time paycheck and never learned to play it. I'm divorcing the me who drove to school in my gold high-heel slippers because I was absentminded. The me who pretended to be a giddy queen and wore a beauty pageant tiara around town like my refusal to be a normal teenager meant anything at all. Listening to the Beatles and `45s ("One Fine Day"..."Soldier Boy"..."Great Balls of Fire")and ignoring Poison and Whitesnake and Whitney Houston and cds. I was beautiful. I sat in my closet and wrote messages on the wall with scented markers so that I would never be forgotten. I put my handprint in the cement. I danced and sang in front of the mirror. I smelled my power and deeply inhaled it. I was strange. I hung a magazine photo of the sinking Titanic on the closet door and a small poster beneath it that read Don't Just Float Through Life...Make Waves! I was a loner. I was a hallway ghost. Homecoming and Prom went on fine without me. I was Molly Ringwald in "Pretty in Pink" without Jon Cryer and his adoring devotion. I was Ally Sheedy in "The Breakfast Club" without the detention connection with the popular jock and the life-changing kiss. I was an actress. I was a writer. I was nobody. I owned the world because I imagined it. Everything could be remedied with a new book/new album/new nail polish/new thrift store outfit. I'm divorcing my dreamy poetic heart. My wishes on stars and 11:11 and birthday candles and pennies in the fountain and dandelion seeds. I'm divorcing the me who despised my mom for marrying a man she wasn't attracted to because she needed the money. I'm divorcing the me who sneered at my kid sister because she listened to Debbie Gibson and Tiffany and was voted Most Popular. I'm saying so long farewell to the me who mocked God and flirted with the Prince of Darkness. I'm not going to be Little Red Riding Hood anymore. Blissfully following the wolf through the black forest. I'm going to be the lost sheep Little Bo Peep is looking for. I'm going to be a Mary Kay perfect smile and hair and pushup bra robot. I'm going to be a fake. I'm going to function in society. I'm going to wave an American flag and give my heart back to Jesus but leave a ventricle for George Bush so he can eat it. I am going to keep a job for longer than a year. I'm going to teach Sunday School. I'm going to learn how to bake a tasty coconut pie. I'm not going to care about astronomy or astrology or Spanish or revolution. I'm going to learn how to sew. I'm going to learn how to decorate. I'm going to learn how to flirt. I'm going to be on "Big Brother" and break all the cute guys' hearts and talk shit behind their backs. I'm not going to use the words shit or fuck or pussy or bitch or cunt or suicide or goddamn anymore. I'm not going to fall in love or pursue it. I'm divorcing myself tonight. My tears, my rages, my dreams, my witchy mysterious blind magic delusions. No more starlit drives imagining myself the muse of every other song on the classic rock station. My lipstick has not saved my life. My art is recycled paper. My poems are recycled prayers. I will be my own attorney. |