14 Mar Sarah Jean Alexander
MAR
Sometimes you tell yourself
stop thinking about that dick
and then it’s all you can think about
for the next three months
but it’s winter so nothing we do matters
Soon, I’ll be wearing the same sweatstained
cutoff shorts for the 20th day in a row
I’ll realize it’s spring almost summer
There will be frozen margarita in my stomach
McCarren Park grass hiding in my asscrack
When I was younger
my insecurities mostly revolved around
the hair on my arms:
impressive and excessive for a 12-year-old girl
A boy called me ‘beast’ for all of 7th grade
so I shaved them for the next 10 years of my life
APR
As an adult my insecurities mostly revolve around
whether or not the lock on the bathroom door in the bar
actually works, and I am constantly mentally preparing
my reaction for when someone walks in on me shitting
This reaction consists of
making the same incoherent and guttural sounds
at a loud volume until the person slowly closes the door
Sometimes no one else even has to go
Sometimes you tell yourself
to stop crying about your dead mom
because she is still very alive
Sometimes she texts you in the morning
that she misses you more than anything
and you decide to just play it cool
Sometimes you get so drunk
you fall asleep on the train
wake up at the end of line
throw up in your lap
and get fired from your job
Sometimes you quit
MAY
I understand being overworked beyond repair
and underutilized until you start to truly believe
that you were put on this earth just to do nothing until it is over
In the warmest month yet my pussy presses against the subway seat
at least once a day in a short dress that looks nice on the outside
and hasn’t been washed since last year and I miss that part of the season most
We walked into the bedroom and you took everything
from my hands so that I could climb into bed first
and then you followed closely behind me
I close my eyes immediately and think about
how I grew myself up to smile easily and love when I want to
and shout louder than anyone else in the room
have you heard me
I grew myself up to hold hands with whatever is closest
I grew myself up to vomit when I have a headache and to relax when I am sad
I’m an aggressive optimist and it’s okay if I want to die one day soon
JUN
When you ask me what I am staying alive for I respond with
I want to look at more things
I want to wait for my eyebrows to grow into each other
That is what I am waiting for
And if I have a little more time to stay in love
then I will accept that as well
Often in the middle of a prayer I realize
this is just another excuse to avoid responsibility
But if I could trade one of my hands for the option
of never being asked another question regarding my arms for the rest of my life
I would at least consider it for a few minutes
What are the bodily responses you feel most responsible for
and if you could prepare for its collapse
would you even want to
When I wake up to a boy wrapped loosely in white blankets
wrapped tightly around me
I know it’s because I deserve it
Sarah Jean Alexander is an American writer from Baltimore. She is the author of Wildlives (Big Lucks Books, 2015) and has been featured in the Fader, Noisey, Dazed Digital, Hobart, Human Parts and other places online and in print. She is the poetry editor of Shabby Doll House and tweets @sarahjeanalex.
