It’s Not My Fault If It Lives Inside Of Me
my little sister tells my mother she’s worried about me,
this is an abrupt change from her daily topic: Pokémon.
but big sis is keeping the door closed for twelve hours straight
and she doesn’t think this is a good sign,
thinks this isn’t just closure.
says I sleep too much,
says there’s probably an animal living somewhere inside of me.
Like maybe a sloth,
or a koala,
the furry friend that you’d point at and ‘awww’ at the zoo.
send your best friend its sleepy GIF,
when it can’t keep eyes open long enough to even eat.
I’m not all human, she decides.
and frankly, I don’t argue.
I think she’s right.
but depression isn’t a beast as cute as the ones she listed,
isn’t something I want her to know I cuddle up to each night,
and at 3 pm when I shouldn’t be taking naps,
should be with the people,
should be buying groceries that aren’t just avocados and wine.
but the bag boy never judges me,
only smiles and says, “have a good day!”
I try. I keep trying.
my little sister tells my mother she should take me to a veterinary.
no, not a doctor.
get me to a vet, STAT!
treat the creature lurking inside,
the one that turns my skin sallow
turns me dark circles,
turns me vitamin deficient,
part of me wants to take that vet appointment,
let her think I’m part sloth.
I like that story much better.
By Ari Eastman
Ari Eastman is a spoken word poet, writer, and YouTuber who will tell you random facts about sharks (if you’re into that kind of thing). She is also the author of two collections of poetry. She strongly believes in balancing the feels and the funnies. And is always down to split a cup of frozen yogurt. Just don’t make fun of her for still liking gummy bears. Her poem is titled: It’s Not My Fault If It Lives Inside Of Me
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