Sunday, April 6, 2014


have you had someone die?
someone you love a lot,
care about.

then you probably felt that way,
the way you do when you curl up
and cry and don't want to move.

the sort of misery that you keep pressing forward,
sad and solemn and closing eyes at every problem,
and if you see something happy and smile you're mad.

i feel that way
a lot.
not because many people have died,
but because i have become many people.

when i read
or i write
i am transformed.
i am no longer fat white girl, at computer or book,
trying to escape reality.

i am katniss everdeen, harry potter,
firestar, a pern dragonrider,
or one of my numerous characters.

and inevitably, someone dies.
so i cry again, feel the misery
as if it was my grandparents or dog again.

i become many things,
so i understand a lot more
than fat white girl, at computer or book, trying to escape reality
usually does; because when i read, or write,
i become, and there are no limits.

i have traveled universes and worlds,
and couldn't list the people i've seen die.
not in my life, no, but in the lives of the people i've lived as,
those lives i've seen so much death,
sometimes it haunts my dreams.
i awake, tearful, only to fall back asleep,
realizing i let my imagination get carried away agin.

you must understand
that because i become, being selfish is difficult
and i always think of how the other person reacts.
so when i say 'i need to be okay and i know how
and you're not going to like it'
a little piece of me dies inside.

i understand,
because i am fat white girl, at computer or book,
and i've escaped reality,
and done and been so much more than you could ever dream,
and i am tired
of feeling
like i am worthless.