Half

Strangers call for me but when I turn

my body to wave, they scream. One

leg, one arm, one eye, half a nose, and

my stomach feels empty.

The sound of snickering chills the

slim spine that hunches over to hide from

mirrors and shadows. Frankenstein’s monster!

The ground quakes, pickets become all

the rage, while children ask mommy if that’s

normal. I hope my halved brain retained

the creative side. Sink into the earth.

Melt into cool water. What is the point of being

alive when you find that missing puzzle pieces

means the entire box will be thrown out? Cries

echo louder from a mouth that cannot smile.

I empty a closet full of uniforms and

use the pieces to play Gepetto; I want to be a real girl.

One piece goes here. Here too. I found

another piece that fits. The night folds

into another. I forget to say hello to the sun for a fortnight.

Finally together. Two legs, two arms,

two eyes, but my nose is rounded

in the wrong place. Still, strangers

wail at the sight of a half girl, stitched together

by the leftover pieces of someone else’s uniform.

I want to be a real girl; I want to be a whole girl.

The girl who is touched by smiles, soaked in

hellos and goodnights. Real girls have two of

everything, and they don’t make people cry

and scream and laugh and point and gape. I wait for my

other half to find me: I am but a bird on a branch,

waiting for another to finally echo my cries.

__

As always, thank you for reading :)

Check out more of my poetry!