LINDSAY LOHAN WAS RIGHT
Lindsay Lohan was Right, High School's like a jungle
I hit the 9th grade, my hair fell like Rapunzel.
Melancholy. Rocking that grunge still.
Springtime daffodils sprouting buds into nipples.
But it's all good, we grow on our own.
Saxophone to guitar, I found my love in pen and paper
Words can be seen or heard, Burned or preserved and unearthed in the future
to unsuture the stitched lips of every queer high-schooler.
Every kid that didn't fit in.
Wearing our skin misfitted. Our loneliness half-witnessed.
This is proof of our existence.
Two 11-yr-olds hung themselves in 1 month
& I'm repeating the names Carl & Jaheem as I slumber.
Broken heart, that epic double entendre,
were where you get’s not at all where we wanted.
And I'm haunted by the lack of responses when children tie knots
become skeletons in our closets.
Witness jaws drop. Repeat their stories to my mom.
Ask that she cradles their souls in her arms.
Hope the next life is kinder. Tell this story to remind y’all that
Lindsay Lohan was right, it’s a freakin’ jungle
And Ferris Bueller was right, the days what you make of.
I am what I am because I was, yea I was barely recognizable to my adult persona
Black and blue hematoma. numb self-induced-coma
no accidental overdose, went from loner to lonely ghost.
A Casper unrehearsed. Host of my own roast.
Filled with self-hatred and praying not to be noticed.
But two big toes dipping deep end
Went from sinking to sailing through each days beginning.
Now looking back on those days like remember when.
Now talking to youth like hold strong to your truths
Your anger is valid. I've seen through the clouds and resound in the fact
that it's beautiful we fall on repeat
Only to rise again and feel the pavement running circles under our feet
Your fragility is human. You deserve to be loved.
And Ferris Bueller was right…The day's what you make of.
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