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Writer's pictureKhatia Nebulishvili

"If my body could speak" by Blythe Baird





This is a book about you whose breakfast tastes like giving up and who is in love with her illness.

About you whose body is haunted by mother's shame and who can't find a god she can relate to.

It is about blaming mothers for not knowing how to love you- a burning girl.

About wallpaper women.

About "no" which can't be said because the question was never asked.

About Half daughter, half apology daughters.

And it It's not definitely about man's teeth where the bones of woman are stuck like leftovers. It's not about men who makes you smaller every day. Because if your body could speak she would definitely forgive you, girl


Notice: Most of the pictures are by Liberal Jane



POCKET-SIZED FEMINISM

             (fragments)

"This house is for wallpaper

women. What good is wallpaper that speaks?

I want to stand up, but if I do,

whose coffee table silence

will these boys rest their feet on?

I want to stand up, but if I do,

what if someone takes my spot?

I want to stand up, but if I do,

what if everyone notices

I have been sitting this whole time?

I am ashamed of keeping my feminism

in my pocket until it is convenient not to

like at poetry slams

or in women’s studies classes.

There are days I want people to like me

more than I want to change the world.

Once, I forgave a predator because I was afraid

to start drama in our friend group.

Two weeks later, he assaulted someone else.

I am still carrying the guilt in my purse."




"How am I to forgive myself

for doing nothing in the mouth of trauma?

Is silence not an act of violence, too?"


"Once, my dad informed me sexism is dead

and reminded me to always carry pepper spray

in the same breath. We accept this state of constant

fear as just another component of being a girl."


"We are the daughters of men who warned us

about the news and the missing girls on the milk carton

and the sharp edge of the world.

They begged us to be careful.

To be safe.

Then told our brothers

to go out and play."


WHEN THE FAT GIRL GETS SKINNY

(fragments)


"wondering why I haven’t had my period

in months

why breakfast tastes like

giving up"


"I only feel pretty

when I’m hungry"


"by the time I was sixteen, I had already experienced

being clinically overweight, underweight, and obese

as a child, fat was the first word

people used to describe me"


"when I lost weight, my dad was so proud

he started carrying my before-and-after photo

in his wallet

so relieved he could stop worrying

about me getting diabetes

he saw a program on the news

about the epidemic with obesity,

says he is just so glad to finally see me

taking care of myself

if you develop an eating disorder

when you are already thin to begin with,

you go to the hospital

if you develop an eating disorder

when you are not thin to begin with,

you are a success story"



"girls at school who never spoke to me before

stopped me in the hallway to ask how I did it

I say, I am sick

they say, No, you are

an inspiration

how could I not fall

in love with my illness?

with becoming the kind of silhouette

people are supposed to fall in love with?

why would I ever want to stop

being hungry

when anorexia was the most

interesting thing about me?"




THEORIES ABOUT THE UNIVERSE


I am trying to see things in perspective.

My dog wants a bite of my peanut butter

chocolate chip bagel. I know she cannot have this,

because chocolate makes dogs very sick.

Madigan does not understand this.

She pouts and wraps herself around my leg

like a scarf, trying to convince me to give her

just a tiny bit. When I do not give in,

she eventually gives up and lays in the corner

under the piano, drooping and sad.

I hope the universe has my best interest in mind

like I have my dog’s. When I want something

with my whole being, and the universe withholds it

from me, I hope the universe thinks to herself,

Silly girl. She thinks this is what she wants,

but she does not understand how it will hurt."





DRESS CODE

a pantoum

Sent home.

Eleven years old.

Violation of the dress code.

Skirt: not enough. You: too much.

Eleven years old.

Beware of boys—all cave, no man.

Skirt: not enough. You: too much.

Mature prematurely. Become woman early.

Beware of boys—all cave, no man.

When you get dressed, think about the message you’re trying to send.

Mature prematurely. Become woman early.

Having a body implies public property.

When you get dressed, think about the message you’re trying to send.

The principal measures my hemline. Ruler to thigh.

Having a body implies public property.

How can my body say something I don’t?

The principal measures my hemline. Ruler to thigh.

Violation of the dress code.

How can my body say something I don’t?

Sent home.


HIGH SCHOOL

(fragment)

Today, the average high school student

has the same anxiety levels as the average

1950s psychiatric patient. We know

the Pythagorean theorem by heart,

but short-circuit when anyone asks us,

How are you? We don’t know. We don’t

know. That wasn’t on the study guide.


We usually know the answer,

but rarely know ourselves.



IF YOUR BODY COULD SPEAK

would she

forgive you?



EVOLUTION OF HEALING

(fragments)


"When you were little, you were a brave girl, a fearless firecracker.

This year, you were nominated

Most Changed from Elementary School."


"Healing looks less like Chicago,

more like Minnesota. Less like poker, more like poetry."


"Remember:

you did the best you could

in the situation you were in

with the materials you had."



THE WAY I WAS TAUGHT TO LOVE

(Fragment)

The first time I heard the word,

it dropped casually on the radio

in the minivan with my mom

the summer before 4th grade.

It dripped down the air conditioner so noticeably,

I couldn’t help but ask if gay was a bad thing.

She explained, It’s not necessarily

a bad thing—it just isn’t our thing.

Years later, I am seventeen. Half daughter,

half apology, all fire and the wrong kind of love.

When my mother asks if I am gay, I tell her I am

sorry.

When she asks, How can you possibly love something

that looks just like you do?

I wonder how long

she has hated herself."


AN INVITATION

(fragment)

I do not know how

to ask my parents

if they will still come

to my wedding.

I think my dad will.

I suspect he will arrive,

awkward & teary-eyed,

because I truly believe

he loves me more than

he loves being right.



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