Personal Statement

I don’t believe I was born, maybe emerged

from a soupy formation of gays 

and other beautiful things instead. I’ve gone

on and on telling you all about how I 

created myself, took a photograph of what

I was given, tore it up, set it on fire, inhaled 

its smoke and grew twenty times my size.

All of this has been said. Today I want to make 

this space my own and project my light through

every surface. I think by now I’ve earned this—

what with the breathing exercises just to leave

the house, and the hyper-awareness of every blade 

of grass’s movement, and the drinking, and the

getting high each night to stave off the nightmares. 

You know, just girly things. So here’s what you need

to know—any time I’m doing something I’m doing 

something I’m afraid of. This makes each experience

seem new and old at the same time. I’m always like 

I don’t give a fuck when in reality I am literally

going to die from how much of a fuck I give. Also

I’m a witch and I get all my powers from the wind. 

Wow. Aren’t I special? Don’t you want to love me 

with all of your heart for the next ten seconds? 

Don’t you want to rescue me

           from all the things that make you feel safe?