Trinket

You're a collector of pretty things.

"Trinkets," you said, "don't have to worry about anything,

except to stay where you're assigned and always look pretty."

So here I am, a pristine figurine,

quiet and still and the occasional talking point.

*

But pretty and perfect is stressful

and I still worry.

Is my lipstick smudged?

Are my colored nails chipped?

Is my posture just so?

*

I want to think

beyond rigid lines and unblemished.

What is it like to worry and crack,

to twist and flow like the morning air?

What is it like to be human?

*

But you're a collector of pretty things

and you aren't going to let me go,

unless I leap off the edge,

f

all

ing towards freedom,

and b re ak.