i thought that

being a woman was

the intangible fact

that we were raised to

agree and yes,

even when we

disagree and no.

or it was the boy who

made me feel

like a man

at the pool

because of my

body,

or another boy

after we simply kissed

under the maple trees

who told the entire school

that we had sex.

my friends

whispering in the dark

of men or boys who

touched them,

memories that are both

crystal clear

and

murky water.

watching them

walk

free

with

memories of

no no no

echoing

within.

though, a battle,

it is a battle

won

and what a strength it is to

overcome.

(we are not our losses, but our victories)

Feeling quite unworthy

I look into your mirror

Your words speak; perfect love

That's absent any fear

I flip them further; fluttering

Like angel's wings, their sound

Of gilded pages' treasury

Truth and wisdom, bound

#1:

If you're going to slash someone's tires, only slash three instead of four. If you do all four, their insurance will cover it, but if it's only three, then they have to pay it out of pocket.

#2:

If you're in a car driving, and you know you're going to crash, aim for the softest things like trees or bushes. It's okay. Don't aim for something hard like a wall. You'll live if you don't.

#3:

Twist your ankle? Need to be back on it soon? First Step: Stand up on two feet. Step two: Now, lift up the foot that is not injured. Tricky yet? Feeling unbalanced? Step three: Now close your eyes. This striggers the muscles in your ankles to work together to keep your balance, thus adding attention to the injury. This excerise will help the sprain.

#4:

Have a really bad scratch and no bandaids? Put chapstick on it. Or vaseline. Whatever works.

#5:

Have you forgotten to text someone back for a long time and regret? Simply start a conversation and say, "Sorry, I forgot to click send. I thought it sent. My bad." Works every time. (WARNING: CAN ONLY USE SO MANY TIMES ON THE SAME PERSON)

#6:

A dog or a human ever bite you and they won't let go? Tip, don't pull away from them (cause that hurts like hell), instead, push up ashard as you can. It will cause discomfort and they will release you as a result.

#7:

Need to perform CPR but don't know how? Easy. Lay one hand over the other, and start pressing to the beat of "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen. Oh, and if you break a rib, keep going. Ribs are breakable, but hearts aren't (Plus there was one guy who sued for his rib but now they have a law against it, lol noob.)

#8:

Getting shot at? Run in zigzags. You're a harder target if you don't stay still.

#9:

Kidnapped? The more you weight, the harder you are to take. So drop like a log and eat cake. (Eat more cake to have more cake).

#10:

Getting robbed? Instead of being like "help! Anyone please!!" be specific to a person. Call out exactly ONE person. It works better.

#11:

Trapped on a stranded island with no food and canibalistic neighbors?

Pray.

#12:

Need a bikini body?

Just put a bikini. Literally. That's simple. (YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE)

#13:

Gas leaks smell like dead fish. So boi, you better make sure you're not having seafood for dinner when it happens.

#14:

Burns come in three types. First, Second, and third. If you've burned yourself and think you're fine because you can't feel anything. News flash: you're not. You literally just burned you're nerves and need to get a hospital ASAP. (Many people die cause they think they're fine, but they're really not.

#15:

Thinking about sex will cause the feeling to pee really badly to diminish. Gross, I know.

#16:

Need to charge your phone in a hotel but all the plug-ins are taken? Check the TV. Usually hotel TVs have a plug-in in the back for further use. Most people don't know they and they have to go to the extreme of letting their phone die.

#17:

If someone makes a racist joke and it makes you feel uncomfortable, just ask them to explain it since you don't understand it. They'll stop laughing instantly.

#18:

Going to a party and that eye-liner you bought is out and you need to look bomb? Take colored pencils and dip them in water. They'll soften and you can put them on your skin (just makes sure they're kid friendly)

#19:

Trying to make someone angry in an argument? Stay calm. Literally. Knowing that their words don't bother you one bit will make them 10x angrier.

#20:

When you want to scribble out a word but don't want anyone to see what you wrote, instead of scratching over it, write random words into the mistake. No one will be able to tell what you originally wrote.

Note: I literally came up with these at the top of my head from what I've learned. Hope it taught you something!

It’s a color. This color is not made to go into any other color!

Why? They say because black is to dominant! What mades it dominate?

Is it the absence of light? That’s what the definition says!

How can such a bold color be considered evil?

What black is for me is inspiration. It’s confidence. Every woman has put on that little black dress and said, damn I look good.

Black is nothing as it seem! One persons evil is another’s persons dream tool!

My daughters are suspicious when I tell them that I can see the future.

The truth is, I can fairly accurately predict when one of them is going to spill their glass of milk at the dinner table. Unfortunately, with this great power comes a significant burden. I get yelled at every time I move the glass away from the edge of the table. Such is the life of a superhero dad.

Bonus superpower: watch how fast I can fetch the paper towel roll! A drop rarely touches the floor.

My face is engulfed in a giant baby wipe. Well, that’s exactly how this Urban Outfitters sheet mask feels. I shouldn’t have expected much from the two dollar bin by the register, but the idea of clear skin made me buy it, regardless.

The instructions printed on the back said to wait five to ten minutes. It’s been three, and I’m already anxious to peel off this layer and reveal a visage as clear as day.

As I blink some of this mysterious, 0.03-cent-an-ounce elixir out of my eyes, my mind fixates on the near future. I’d have clear skin; all the boys would love me. I’d have clear skin; any job I ever wanted would be mine. I’d have clear skin; never would I have to ask for favors. I’d have clear skin; I’d be a valuable contributor to society.

Four minutes and twenty six seconds. Eh, close enough. I prematurely put a stop to the impending flourish of “Intro” by The xx.

My bathroom mirror is a mere turn around away. I turn to face this reflection of truth. My heart rate intensifies as I prepare to peel away this layer.

Three, two, one...

Lo and behold, my skin is glowing. Sparkling, actually. Never have I felt more beautiful, like myself. The mask is off. This is who I was destined to be, and I can see her right in front of me.

Until my eyes start to burn. My body responds by coating my retinas with tears. My line of sight drowns in this salty brine, and I wish for the time to come when I can take a second look at this sudden beauty.

An eternity passes, and I can see again. But when I face the mirror once more, I miss when my eyes could not open.

I don’t have clear skin.

Behind this mask is who I actually am: a clueless casualty of capitalism, with sheet mask chemicals in her eyes. Gone is the glimmering goddess, for she was never there.

The face-shaped baby wipe goes intro the trash, along with botox kit boxes, crumpled-up corsets, hideous hair extensions. Try as I might, buy as I may, this body in which I am trapped will never have big lips, a skinny waste, or a long, silky mane, let alone clear skin.

Surely, I’ll have to peel off many more layers before I can become the mask.

Underage, fake ID and up at the bar drinking Cape Cods. Mmm mmm, that sweetened cranberry juice sure can mask the flavour of those hefty helpings of vodka the friendly bartender was poring into my drinks. Within 45 minutes, I had downed 6 of them. I was at the drag queen dive we hung out in and when my friends arrived I enthusiastically announced that I was getting full. This slang for getting drunk wasn’t adequate to describe what was happening to me. I was on the brink of overflowing. With a sudden and swift drop, my merriment descended into slurs and blurs, then deeper still into zombiedom. A friend recounted how my eyes abruptly glazed over and my expression slakened. She accompanied me to the restroom and apparently I remained in the dirty, dive, toilet cubicle for an inordinately long time. God knows what I did in there, but it wasn’t vomiting. I saved that for outside the club. Projectile streams of red liquid gushing across the pavement. Only to be outdone by the rivulets of menstrual blood pouring down my legs and saturating my sheer, black tights. The last thing I can remember from the night is that same friend informing me about the state of my legs. I don’t care, was my reply. You will, was hers. Perhaps there is one skant snatch of recollection out of the blackness that followed. Me standing in front of my apartment door. But the copious vomiting, taxi drivers refusing to let me into their cabs, getting home, being home, these images were recreated by friend’s and my mom. One taxi driver eventually gave in with the strict orders that I sit on plastic and don’t dare vomit. I was escorted to my door, firmly nudged inside and my mom led me to my bed. Some hours later, I awoke to a stench. Pulling back my covers revealed shit spread down my thighs and around the sheet. The final expulsion. Stumbling through a clean up I hurried to the restaraunt I worked in to endure an 8 hour shift of a hang over. One of the waiters brough me two long, tall drinks of freshly squeezed orange juice, vodka free. Drink it down, he said, watching me until I had emptied both glasses. Vitamin C coursed gloriously through my system eliminating nausea and heaviness on its way. Sufficiently perked up, all that remained to endure were the accounts of my Cape Cod overdose.

I looked at her, a smile across

both of our faces;

Red cheeked, red lipped;

Mother and daughter, happy together

At last. In a way I had never known

her, to smile in such a way

but we were happy. All three,

we were happy. The bottles of liquor

empty on the family table,

The cans of beer that I had not drunk

And the wine that was instead my favourite.

And my father, laughing at her silliness;

At her squiffiness and I saw his love

For her, a love I seldom saw.

And I understood that love

In the smile across

Her beautiful face.