Credit: Izzybelle Shaw, Poet Laureate, SC State 2012 - 2015
Accepted into and screened at the Indie Grits Film Festival 2016 (http://www.indiegrits.com/2...
I'd hate to have the sun dictate my life....
Elementary school, play yard, no one wants to be your friend, when it should be so easy. Say hi and instead, they tease me......kids are cruel.
Middle school, puberty. I wish i was invisible. To my crush, i am, but to everyone else....no. You only see me because you need a punching bag, I'm sorry i exist, this is true.
High school, things are better, or so i thought, my two best friends teach me quality over quantity, what's in numbers but pedophilia, my first love is too old.....but I'm not seen by anyone else, so when no one else wants me, I take what I can get...I thought it was ok.
College, i discover a voice. On stage, I'm not invisible but at the bar, I welcome the cloak. Don't see me as I see the bottle. The glass. The blunt. The dick. Don't see me. I don't see myself, i don't want to, never wanted to. I write. I look better on paper than i do in person.
Pregnancy. I don't see him but i feel him. The room is dark but his heart is darker. I am nonexistent for six months. I couldn't do an abortion. He reappears and yet responsibility still seems to be only my problem, I'm docile. No baby mama drama, it's the only way and I'm sorry....
Motherhood is tough. He sees me and smiles. It makes me nervous, it feels weird to be seen and appreciated. He doesn't know I'm damaged and he doesn't care. He smiles, hugs, and kisses on me, unconditionally he loves me. He sees beauty. I try to see everyday what he sees but i can't......depressed.
Controlled chaos. I function enough to make it day to day but tomorrow is too far away, the thought so overwhelming, i cry.
Insecure. Afraid of rejection. Love me, i beg spread eagle with strangers on the weekends. My teeth bore during the work week, jokes are plenty. Don't believe i take antidepressants. I'd rather counseling, at least making me feel less obscure feeds your family.
Pretend. It's felt, I'm in danger, in danger of myself and i dont know if I want help. I've been invisible this long anyway. I'm fading fast, depression is a terminal illness but the masses would say suicide is selfish, is it the same for fast food though? No exercise, i couldn't find my happy so i found prescription pills in the sun and made a temporary one....
But then there he is. My son. My forever. Keeps me from swallowing, those pills. Those ideas. I'm vocal. Notebooks housing my truths, stages and mics keep me alive and in it all, i don't know if for help, I'm crying or if this is just another poem but you're hearing it. Hear me. Love, I'm ready to be seen.