Confident,
a word
I’ve never
used
when describing
myself.
I’ve only
ever
felt confident
in others,
never in
who I
am
or who
I will
be.
Doubt and
worry
eats at
my brain
like
a starved
man,
gnawing
at
soft tissue
until
it’s all
gone,
so
It still
shocks
me
when I
hear
someone call
me
confident,
and I
believe
I’ll always
feel
that surprise,
since
being unsure
is my
default
setting.
a strong tree so built
the sharp lightning strikes her then
she cannot long stand
i was born a pinch short of the recipe
eggs short of the mixture
collapsing when my mother said
never go on—
and there’s the end of my song
sung a dozen ways in the theatre, the oven,
cathedrals— i’m gone
darling, i’m gone. friends. i’m gone.
the sifter is broken, the lies have been told
not half the baker i led on to be
an egg short of the mixture, collapsed at the edges
my mother said
never ever go on.
it looks like i’m crying, remember me not, babe i’m
cups low on flour at that.
it’s quiet, the kitchen is closed, and its off to bed at last.
i was cupcakes and icing, when all your devising
entered my mind in a flash. i was sprinkles and pills,
brandishing sheets of bright tinfoil to keep all of the
old monsters back
back from the doors of my heart,
i shut them forever,
no, i’m not cutting you slack.
so i’m gone. my friends. i’m gone.
the sifter is broken, the lies have been told
not half the baker i led on to be
an egg short of the mixture, collapsed at the edges
my mother said
never ever go on.
it looks like i’m crying, remember me not, babe i’m
cups low on flour at that.
it’s quiet, the kitchen is closed, and its off to bed at last.
