Charcoal sketch by the fireplace. Low light, sepia-colored photograph with blackened thumb and forefinger. Crying tears, makeup runs, mascara turns Beauty Queen into Horror Show. Sleeping in it takes the mask, imprinting it on pillowcase and part of sheet. Hair Metal bands, Green Day circa 2004-5. Jack Dawson Titanic. Back to the drawing. My sweaty hands on homework, on any piece of paper, any book. Pencil strokes become distant watercolors, wet pen marks and the accidental hand gliding across. A+ with a vapor trail. B+ as cascading stars or something. Nothing’s changed except the knowledge that the letters don’t mean anything anymore. But back to the sweaty hands; Embarrassment, shame, don’t look at me. I’m afraid for anyone to look at me. Surprised when anyone remembers me. Don’t you know what it’s like to feel this way?
Roe Knows Best 