Most days I’m Glinda a sparkly witch, glittering goodness. See me, bubble bound smiling, serene. See me gliding around granting wishes. Not one hair out of place every sequin sewn tight, my crown is white, I am gauze behind the filtered lens of your projections. Unknown to most however, I squirm, seethe green in too-tight shoes, I fall off my bicycle limp around with blood at the knees of my saggy woolen stockings. I rage against my own sharp edges, at all the ways I can’t quite make it out of town or spring free the trappings of my own skin, I’m rubbed raw by churning winds, the glacial pace of grains in the hourglass, I am mean with fear and want just waiting for the house to fall, and the dog to run away.
Early Morning Poems 