Gris-Gris, an online journal of literature, culture & the arts

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by Donney Rose

This poem begins as a jealous rant
a story of how I wish I wrote as well as some of my friends
of how I wish I was tall like my brothers
of how I wish everyone else didn’t seem so damn perfect

This poem transitions to something depressing
it’s a story of how empty pockets
can bring out the beast in the best of us
of how a mother who died thirteen years ago
refuses to drop by and say anything
of how feet can feel planted to soil
when everyone else seems to have taken flight

This poem is fully aware it sounds like a pity party
but it wants to be a pretty party
glamorous
with beauty all around it
maybe bowtied

This poem needs a scalp massage
a foot rub
a pat on the back
an “everything will be ok”
to be told how blessed it is
this poem
its writer
needs to stop feeling like the outcome
of a hungover God

This poem will end as a cautionary tale
of how dangerous it is to wake up every day
to step out into a world where every ounce of sugar
can turn into shit
where relationships and opportunities bury themselves
right in front of you
this poem is telling you to go out and look for beauty anyway
to step out of yourself and feel alright
by you I mean me
the writer
thanks poem
thank you again