Gravel

Nina Szarka
Aug 22, 2017 · 2 min read

1.
I want my heart to to be solid
like something made for throwing, because sometimes
I do not have enough things in my pockets
fit for breaking windows
and I want the glass between us
gone.

2.
I am afraid that I will never fall in love again
because watching someone
fall out of love with me
feels like chewing and swallowing
gravel
and it has happened so many times that
I worry I am just full of rocks now.

3.
I don't want to die yet
but I think often about what you will say at my funeral
and if I will ever be good enough
to deserve the kinds of statues
we build of our dead.

4.
I know that I am pretty
but I worry that it is all I am
and I wonder
who will love me
in twenty years
when I have passed the point
our culture has dictated to us
is the line I will have to cross
and join the others who tell stories
of what they were in their youth;
What will I be, when I am not pretty anymore?

5.
I once starved myself
until I had a 24 inch waist
and it did not bring me
happiness.

6.
I don't want to cry in front of you
because it will ruin your illusion
that I am the Cool Girl
and if I am not the Cool Girl, then I will be
The Other Girl
and the Other Girl needs things from you
like space, and softness, and truths
and gentle hands
and quiet
and laughter
and dancing
and I have already written so many poems
about men who left
when I needed anything more than
witticisms
and help unbuttoning my blouse.

7.
I think that I am wrong
most of the time.

8.
My mother used to tell me to stop crying
and fix it
but there were never any tools
so I began putting band-aids on everything
until I had a house that was covered in band-aids
with post-it notes stuck to the the surface that read
"Stop crying"
And sometimes when I tell myself, "It could be worse,"
I wonder how worse it has to get
before I am allowed to say, "This hurts".

9.
Every mask I wear tells a better truth
than my face can
and if I cannot tell the truth
what did I come here for?

)

Nina Szarka

Written by

Nina Szarka is a poet, essayist, and lunatic who enjoys carnivals after dark and peeling small citrus fruits.

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