My Name’s not Trichotillomania
daddy told me I’m his princess
he wakes me in the morning
says I am his sunshine
the mirror in my room is a meanie
I am blank
all the pretty is gone
I ask God why he made me like this
my fingers move fast
they always do when my heart gets heavy
little clumps of hair
my eyelashes fall
bangs and eyelashes and eyebrows
they are almost gone when I get tired
my tears slide through the gaps
I go ahead and pull them all out
in the morning my eyes are puffy
puffy and red
puffy and red and bare
I am the ugliest girl on the earth
I hate the mirror
and my machine fingers
pluck
pluck
mommy hates that sound
I can’t go to school
not like this
they say, "Where are you eyebrows?"
they come close to my face
they search it
“Do you not have any eyelashes?”
I back up
I say they are just light
please don’t come close to my face
I think they can see me
see right through me
Mommy, don’t make me go to school
They can’t see past what I’m not, and now I have little to offer that I am
Rain puddles in the drive-way
The big oak tree cries leaves
Cries leaves for me
He serenades the sky with his sniffling
And the breeze, she dries his tears
I am going puddle jumping in the shiny pools of drive-way water
Maybe there are worlds for girls like me
I jump but they don’t take me away
Just muddy my jean shorts
I knew it wouldn’t happen
But I can try
And then I see something that makes me tired
On the concrete lies a birdie
Still soaking in its little egg
Dead and cracked on the hard, mad ground
I don’t like the look of tiny death
maybe it fell out with the storm
or just tried to fly before it could
don’t you know, you can’t fly inside an egg?
I’m sorry you fell
You can’t fly when you’re trapped
Back yard desert
My world for the noon
Red dirt from the river
The one that I can spell:
AR...K...ANS...AS
A kitchen spoon is the very best tool for today
And my dog is here to watch me
Watch me dig
Dig tunnels in the Oklahoma heat-
Deep, cool tunnels I can stick my whole arm through
Plastic animals explore their depths
And I bury trinkets and sticks and hopes for later on
This is my playground
In the 99 degree heat
A spoon, red dirt, and my dog
Experiments
Through the front door, scuffed white aluminum
Inside, avocado chairs and a mountain lion painting
Great grandpa sits on the recliner to the right
He watches lady-bugs crawl over the windows in summer
Great grandma is on the left always smiling with paints ready—
big-girl paints that she uses on our birthday post-cards
She lets me paint
I want to paint like her
Cobalt Blue, Lavender, and Barn Red Apple Barrel acrylics smeared over the paper
Brushes dipped too deep into paint and borders leaking onto the metal folding TV tray
Look what I made, Grandma!
Kisses on my forehead, and I’m beckoned to the kitchen
A crystal bowl of pastel mints
Three colors, faded and sad-sweet
Water boiling on the stove
A well-water smell and the grunt of oil derricks
Grandma gives me my Christmas present;
doesn’t matter that it’s July
A home-made afghan and make-up kit
I sidle into her bedroom
Everything is neat, full of memory
My tummy feels the quiet
I pick at the tape on my makeup kit
crackly plastic molding
Grandma’s mirror's even taller than me!
Eye shadow wand in my wobbly grip
blue like my eyes
Does it go along my eyebrows and how far over on the sides?
Oily blush
a circle on the “apples” of my cheeks
Scarlet lipstick
It’s smeary
Lips are more harder than they look
Done
Clown face in the honest mirror
not as pretty as she thought she’d be
just a rag doll with silly makeup and chicken legs
