I Think She Was a Human

I think she was a human. Just like me.

She covered her arms in dark stains and painted her hair a different color every week. She put piercings in weird places and dressed so that you stopped to look at her. She was surrounded by eyes and ears. She sung beautiful songs from the depths of her soul. And often her arms were exposed and her bones looked fragile and she looked cold. Still, she sang a song so powerful you could feel her truth. And if you denied it, deep down you knew it was only because you have been denying yourself for so long.

I think she was a human, just like me.

She used drugs and alcohol. She stayed up all night and slept through the days. It didn't matter if it was Tuesday or Thursday or what it would be tomorrow. She smoked and sipped the days away. Still, she sang.

I think she was a human, just like me.

She wanted to share things, so she sang. She wanted to feel, so she sang. She wanted to be awake, so she sang.

And the world, as she knew it, was afraid of her aliveness, because it had gotten so used to numbness. So they judged her for her stains; for her outward way of being. They mocked her for her clothing. They questioned her about her songs.
Her songs.

All day they all watched. In conformity. Complacency. In chaos. In cubicles. In tight cubbies that children learn to place their paper bag lunch boxes. Orderly. They watched.

She. She was not orderly. She was wild and unruly. She put her ugliness on her arms, while we put ours in our bellies and then wish them away and they stay.
She put her ugliness in her songs. So that she could feel it and see it. In a world that taught her to hide it.

She wanted freedom.
She thought.

She didn't know.

Doesn't everybody in this world?

Not allowed to be dirty. Not allowed to be down.
Not allowed to step outside the box.
of freedom.

She drank more and used more and sang less.
Her song stayed trapped in her soul and when it tried to come out she smothered her ugliness in thick, grey smoke. She smothered her ugliness until she couldn't sense it anymore.

And then, she wasn't anymore
ugly
or here.

I think she was a human
just like me.