POEM: Re: My Silence.

{image description: My left hand, pale and white, grasping the handle of a grimy turquoise milkcrate. I have long nails. They’re painted neon orange, except for my middle finger, which is painted a shade of pale purple called Wild Lilac. There’s a pink white-noise-machine with round buttons on top the milkcrate, and a purple zebra-print notebook cover is visible through the diamond-shaped slats. In the background are scattered papers and electrical cords.}

Re: My Silence

You want to take your resilience,

put it in a box

and ship it away.

The first time she told you you were resilient

You felt special

You felt strong

You felt like you were exiting a funeral

dressed to kill.

Resiliency became your pet

A black cat, a shadow, a pillow

Familiar.

Then it became a fence.

Then it became a wall.

Then it became a ______.

You rearranged the letters, left a few behind

SILENCE

Added, subtracted, multiplied like baking a

vegan version of an old family recipe

RE: MY SILENCE

REST, SILLY

LIES

CLIENTS

SLICE, SLIVER

ERSTWHILE, HENCE.

The word became everything and nothing

Scrambled like memories on mood stabilizers

Confetti at a party you don’t know who to invite

Resilience was your long nails when you took your vitamins

And the unbreakable milkcrates you built your furniture with

Resilience began as a password

And then it became a buzzword, a brand,

an excuse.

***

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