Birthday wish; hooray; yippee
Another year blundered by
Somehow I have stayed alive
Nurses with their little IV’s
Cheerfully blow up my body beyond recognition
Therapists with their little notebooks
Decide I am no risk, just fine
Doctors with their little charts
Say “Take your insulin, you
Ingrate. Rebellion gets you
And I am left alone with my needles and my vials
My pills and my razors
To tear apart and stitch back up
This poorly made body.
The manufacturer made a mistake;
I thought there’d be a recall.
I tried to return me myself
Everyone in perfect unison shouted
“No! It’s a sin! Get back to whoever bought you
And try to hide the defects- it can’t be
Too hard. “
So I painted a smile on these
Cracked and bleeding lips
I installed a voice box that said
“I’m great! I’m fine! I’m blessed!
How are YOU, my dear?” And this voicebox
Could not say “No.”
My eyes were blue already
My hair long and blonde
And when they found me hanging
From the rafters THIS birthday
They said “Such a shame! So lovely!
She never complained!”
Can’t they see?
The noose fashion from measuring tape was
My last and loudest complaint.