I Live, Disguised (Madison Elizabeth Holland

I Live, Disguised (Madison Elizabeth Holland - Lafayette, LA)

This evening
I am a karaoke star
I thank those roaring crowds
Sing my heart out and say goodnight
Tonight
I am a prostitute
Selling my wares at a local bar
Show that skin to yet another meal ticket
This morning
I am a young professional
Typing furiously on a keyboard
Eyes locked onto a screen that furthers my career
At lunch
I am an alcoholic
Downing drinks before returning to a dead end job
Counting down the hours till the day ends
This afternoon
I am a country girl
Yearning for a muddy four wheeler
Perhaps a cowboy to sweep me off my feet
This evening
I am a flapper
Dancing coolly through a club
Cigarette drooping from my pouting mouth
Tonight
I am somebody's true love
Holding them tightly in my bed
Dreaming of something just a little better
This morning
I am a gambler
Staying at the casino until day breaks
Holding tightly to my lucky dice
This high noon
I am a mother
Chaperoning children to a movie
Wearily breaking up the same fight for the fourth time
This afternoon
I am a librarian
Doing research in the stacks
Getting sidetracked by a romance novel
This evening
I am a hostess
Greeting guests and making small talk cordially
Locking eyes with a friend knowingly
Tonight
I am only myself, and tired
The faces I put on throughout my day exhaust me
I do not know
How to live without them
So I wake up to another day
Of living through
The extensions of myself
My many disguises.

Comments

Come Hither (Annette Redmond Walters - Lafayette, LA)

I meant it not this way but the tears just flow and my makeup smearing all the more, leaving behind that familiar filthy residue. I may have begun to drive myself away, dragging you down as well. But it's done, I've flipped the switch and now it's dark once more. How painful is the music to my ears, I can't stand to be alone in it, yet here I am again. I pray you fly back and safely and warmly to me, though I fear I've dug the grave too deeply. As the dirt shifts within my soul, I choke on those loving words I'd meant for you. All the fragments of light I see becoming smaller and I wish to be near you in your embrace that might make me feel the warmth I'm missing. And in reality, I doubt I'd breathe another breath without you. So come hither and quickly soothe my dying heart, you are the only cure I know. I cry and cry again, come hither to heal and love me. Come hither and help me dry my tears.

Let That Fucker Burn (John Chenvert - Napoleonville, LA)

Let that fucker burn. Let the fire crackle like the whips once did— like bone meeting leather, like screams swallowed by the trees. Let the white columns crumble to ash. Not as tragedy— but as truth, unearthing itself from beneath generations of silence. Nottoway is not a mansion. It’s a mausoleum. A lie carved in stone to honor the hands that held the whip, not the backs that bore it. They called it the “White Castle.” A place of beauty. A place for weddings, for photo ops, for pretending that horror can be made elegant if the curtains match the guilt. But no paint can cover what happened there. Blood doesn’t wash out with white linens. And pain doesn’t forget just because you renamed it history. I’m not Black. And I won’t pretend to carry that weight. But I also won’t ignore it. My people—the Guanches—were taken too. Our language silenced. Our land stolen. Our names nearly erased. So yes, I know colonization. Yes, I know what it means to be disappeared. But I also know this— my skin ...

Lunatic (Lily Lechler - New Orleans, LA)

“Lunacy” comes from the moon, Who cycles through brilliance and darkness Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed Opposites not so well harnessed Who cycles through brilliance and darkness? The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Opposites. Not so well harnessed As she thought, her brain gives reason the slip The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Her body, depressed, her thoughts manic. As she thought, her brain gave reason the slip And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic. Her body depressed her thoughts. Manic Lunacy comes from the moon And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed

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