Style

I’ve always liked that sense of style

With the chains

And the blood

The gore and the bats and the spiders

The one that seemed far away

Reserved for those infinitely cooler than me

Mom wouldn’t let me wear it.

I’m building it now, though

My own sense of style

I wear skulls

And spikes

And all the chains and blood and ravens my heart desires

I even add the goats

From a religion that makes most people quiver on the spot.

The black is my main color

Sometimes with accents

Splashes of blue, of violet, of silver, of green

Red is my favorite, though

A color of power and rage

Together with black, it’s considered devilish

Maybe that’s why I wear them so much.

I don’t have the money for the tattoos yet

Or the piercings

But I know I need them

To give me something nice to look every morning

At least I have the makeup

The sharp eyes, the shadowy lips

That scream without speaking, “Go away.”

“Go away, go away.”

“I could hurt you. Go away.”

It all says that

I know what will get people to leave me be

What will make me taller

What will make me frightening

Intimidating

I think that’s why I love it so much

Because a style like that

It says, “Power.”

“Dominance.”

“I am strong. I am intimidating. No one can hurt me.”

“I am not weak.”

Lord knows I need to remind myself of that.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741