after gingerbronson’s 1994.

i should have been named katrina or
irene or sandy because i move like a hurricane
like one big black hole like a
paper shredder
i grew up in high places,
behind fans and walk-in wardrobes and liminal spaces, trading
stickers in classrooms i grew up catching
boys and heat rashes
spent nine learning jokes,
ten to twenty dodging the punchline
grew up old, different walls every year but the same peeling paint
building a home in my mind with edges
and stuffed toys, i
grew up psychopath and silver-tongued
and best friends with the dark
twisting both lips up
she liked to make me dance
led me soapy
to the balcony
i grew up thankful, violet-haired
and lover, making tin-can telephones
asleep on poolside chairs
grew up chamaeleon, moon-like, smiling sideways,
grew up believing  in mermaids and god, still believe in 1.
i grew up in a garden city fire
and savage, grew up
placating, grew up
like fireworks like swaddled
grenades like a child forgetting
to breathe,
am 1 still
think the world is beautiful.