*This is a creative writing piece by Cecilia Ruvinsky. A piece of poetry titled “Skeleton Dance.*
who am i-
shrieks vanishing veins
and hole-in-heart heartbeats.
who am i.
i know who i want to be,
when i choke down tiny pills
that seem to capsize in my throat,
and i know i can fool myself into thinking
that that’s who i am,
when i stretch black cherry gum over my teeth
and smile a black cherry smile,
but it’ll never be true, not the way i want it to.
so who am i.
the question pounds like a headache,
as i wander in halls
that make the hair on my arms rise like peach fuzz,
and as i staple my eyes open and tell everyone i’m ok,
but answers that i can only just barely grasp
escape my fingertips right before i faint into phantom limbs that let me fall.
why do they let me fall?
i pick at scabs that have the nerve to crust over my skin
because doesn’t Mother Nature know that my body is meant to bleed?
doesn’t she know that there’s no hope for ruined fruit like me?
all i am is a skeleton in someone’s closet,
and they pretend i don’t exist
because it’s much easier than facing the face they least want to see.
but why can’t they just look me in my eyes
and tell me that i’m real,
tell me i’m not a figment of my own imagination and their own psychedelic nightmare,
the way i scream myself hoarse so they can hear me over the rings of their laughter,
because if i’m not real to them,
am i real at all?
am i?
or am i just pixie dust,
floating around a land that doesn’t exist,
drizzling down on people who want to fly, and now they’ve got their chance,
but it wasn’t the kind of flying they meant to do.
i can fly with you, if you’ll let me,
because right now my name just rhymes with loneliness,
but if we hold hands, and spread our wings, then i can be lonely with you.
and maybe that’s who i am
maybe that’s all i’ll ever be
but if we can start all over again,
you can be that person with me.