Drunken Thought #2

Everyone's so quick to diagnose.
Everyone's so quick to prescribe a treatment.

     I'm waiting for an opportunity to tell my story.  Before the scab... Before the scar tissue... Before the blemish...  No one has ever asked me what happened in the first place.  Before the broken skin... Before the spilled blood... Before the ambulance ride...
     It's been a very difficult story to keep to myself.  But, no one asks, "How did you get that x-long gash from here-to-there?"  Instead, I'm told to "apply cocoa butter to reverse the hyper-pigmentation."  As if, healing lies in the reverse of the trauma's symptoms.  As if, I'd be free if the scar blended with my skin-tone.  As if, the disappearance of my scar will make me forget his forceful hands in my hair.  Before telling me, "Black skin is prone to darken where a barrier is breached,"  please ask if I'm proud to see evidence of a threat null and void.
     I've been longing to say 'yes' for so long.  "YES!"  I've wondered how that would sound from my lips to my ears. How would "YES" sound reverberating throughout the air?  "YES, I've been in scuffles."  "YES, I've fought for my life."  "YES, I'm still here, in spite of the sharp edge held firmly at my face."  However, I've longed to say "YES" without adding my name to the long list of victims.

Why would I want to cosmetically remove a badge of honor?
Everyone's so quick to diagnose.
Everyone's so quick to prescribe a treatment.

     I've been equally redundant to call upon my truth.  I would hate to have all-that-I-am reduced to 'fucked up', so I stay silent.  Waiting...  Longing...  Furiously masturbating to the thought of someone giving a damn enough to ask, "Where'd this come from?"  Pointing to the scar between my eyebrows.
    Is it a rude question to ask?  Is it inappropriate to inspect my body and inquire about your findings?  Probably.  But, I find it equally rude to discuss the matter on Oprah's coach; in an attempt to promote my latest project.  I guess this story will die with me...or, it'll splatter from lips when I'm desperate for some attention.  Which isn't today.

No comments:



Related Posts with Thumbnails