Hell of a Bluff
I watched the music video
A tall, wetly perspiring drink of long legs and blonde extensions
In the distance, behind her drummer, the emergency lights are rolling in rotation
She’s holding the microphone like it’s the cock she’s sure she owns
It’s not
It wasn’t
The pail of tears doesn’t need to get filled
with the traitorous chatter of all the other girls since fifth grade
But that’s what keeps it brimming
It’s all…Chris H. is never going to like you, because everyone knows he likes Kelly
And even though Chris H. promised you the plan was to build a life in California…
Chris H. was always going to build a life with someone else
She was dealt a dirtier path and it means she’s not guaranteed what she’s owed
The boys liked her grit and it became an excuse
The girls she grew up with who I now sit beside in the stadium
Gave her an identity right away
Signing her yearbook, they wrote, You’ll just never be pretty here.
Sometimes, I don’t share my writing because I know it won’t make the world more beautiful.
Not because I’m writing about a natural disaster or a breakup or a terrible reality.
But because, I’m just some human who thinks things that are better left unsaid.
And yet...poetry.
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