I. Have. Skin.
This skin is slashed and bothered and sore’d and frazzled. This skin has been stapled and starved. This skin has been allergic and addicted. This skin has been plunged and punched and forgotten and framed.
Today, watch this skin bloat. Watch this skin bleed. Watch this skin get stuffed into pants too small now. Watch this skin get cold, shiver and slump into an icy rage. Watch this skin check out other skin. Like that woman’s skin with no marks of stretch with no abbreviations of death or lacerations. Skin smooth like the margarine my father would spread on my rye bread toast when I was a child and his etched heart in orangey-yellow butter substitute made the rest of the day seem OK to jump into.
Today, watch how I speak. Watch how I metaphor. Watch how I cower when you ask me how I am/ what I am doing/ what do I do/ where was I yesterday. Watch how I avert your stare when you want to know what I love/ what I am in love with/ what loves me. Watch how I segue back to you so seamlessly. Watch how I speak about my mother. Watch how I acronym men who are white who are middle in age who left that stain on my body like an oil spill of sewage. Watch how I shutter at my childhood. Watch how I practice atheism then go home and pray to your god named Ginsberg. Watch me speak about sex like I like it. Watch me explain my collection of condoms and then ask me why I neglect to use them.
Wrap your throat inside a menthol brag.
I wrote a poem today. I finished reading a book today. I kissed a girl today. I got hit on today. I got dressed today. I woke up today. I ate a meal today. I did not cry today. I called my mom today. I engaged in selflessness today. I gave a man a dollar and my apple and bought him a meal and he thanked me and maybe I saved him today. I did not cut today. I cleaned my apartment today. I paid my bills today. I said something really smart today. I got a great deal on a pair of boots today. I saw a celebrity today. I brushed my teeth today. I did not try to kill myself today.
body.no body.check out my body.what is this body
I got this collarbone. Check out these squares etched in my belly. Call them a six-pack. Punch your fist into my muscle. Check me out. I straightened my hair. No more knots to count. Check out its smooth. Check out its airbrush. Check out its glisten. Check out its aroma of fried curls. I got these cheekbones. Check out their starvation. I got this jaw, angled without excess. Check out my thighs. Check out the five-inch space between them. Check out their bones. Check out my ankles. Width of fingers. Check out my cunt. It’s tighter now. It’s reborn now. Check out my breasts. Look how they stare. Look how they freeze. Check out their shape. They are round. They are fucking perfect. Check out my smile. Check out my teeth. Whiter than my race. Straighter than my sex. Check out my ass. Check out my hips. Do you want this? Do you want this? Want to purchase this?
Aimee Herman 