Holy moly, me oh my!

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum

Media Maness


Flipping through channels ‘cause I’m sick of the

same old thing:

crazy old cat lady, OCD freak,

afraid of everything psycho,

the girl who never stops crying

and lets not forget

the significant other who has

gone off their rocker.

I’m tired of seeing myself portrayed

as “crazy”, “freak”,

“most likely to kill someone”

because when was the last time

one trait defined your whole being?

Lazy writing leads to

stereotypes which furthers


But of course if I were to proclaim

that I don’t cry all day everyday or

that I’m not always scared,

then it’s not “real.”

My suffering doesn’t exist.

Thank you kind sir, madame,

must have been imagining

my panic attacks where my throat closed,

making it impossible to breath.

Must have been imagining

the lack of energy to do

anything much less eat.

Must have been imagining

such a painful numbness

that I felt the need to carve

red lines into my skin…

But of course, why didn’t I think of that?

It’s all in my head. Just “let it go,

let it go.” What’s this? A mirror?

Have I finally found –

“She’s so underdeveloped.”

Are we watching the same thing?

“She ran from her problems.”

Yeah who doesn’t?

“One hug and she’s cured? I don’t think so.”

She is NOT cured, just supported.

“She’s so stupid.”

I’m not stupid!

“She’s so selfish”

I am not selfish! I’m just protecting myself!

Oh, that’s right, can’t protect myself from

something that doesn’t exist.

It’s all in my head?

Well get your head out of your ass

because class is in session.

I’m as real as your ego but easier

to fit through a door. So please excuse me

while I defend this Queen with my

life because for once I can prove that

it’s not in my head.