Elizebeth Turnquist

If the trick to catch a man
Is to be thin and young and dumb
Then Im not sure there is a man
Im going to try and seekIm not willing to be submissive
To court or keep a guy
Pleasure and companionship
Can be found other waysIm fat and old and smart
I like food more than sex
No one will acuse me of being fun
Im at odds with keeping a mateI wont spend my life
In a perpetual chase
I think I can live without
Yeah, Im better off on my own.

Grief is an odd thing
like a slap in the face
it's surprises and stings
and leaves a mark It can come in waves
crashing over us
pulling us under
suffocating under the weight Other times it's a numbness
as if nothing has changed
but the colors are muted
The day a bit less brightFor a moment it isnt so bad
And then grief sneaks up on us
because it lives with us always
the visits just get less frequentWe go on in this incomplete world
A world that keeps moving
A new day that keeps dawning
We live with what it is.

I sometimes wonder
How they cannot see
That investing in anger
Is an act of futility
Anger does not return joy
Or make one better
Rage is the path
To a rancid bitter
Happy is hard
Its a choice of attitude
A habbit of seeking positive
Even when your not in the mood
I dont know whats easier
The happy or angry path
But i know the one ive chosen
And its not one of wrath.

I never wanted to be a circus clown
to turn the world upside down
with a laugh and a lark
I always wanted them to see me for my mind
and to think about me anytime
when they heard my true voice
the world is more cruel than this
when it doesn't give you beauties kiss
you watch the rest make headway
while you just wait and pray
is yearning the only kind of fever
that will lead me to the place of furvor
where I'll find bright lights on my face
I don't think it's wrong to yearn for
a little recognition for what I make more
than all the other girls
I'm driven to the page
to write down my thoughts about me
even when the rest don't care I write wishing for a blank stare
My words are all I have, you see
to connect me to this world around me
I wish you could taste them half as much
as you discard them from your touch.

Do I want to be beautiful?
is that a burden I desire
Some might say the answer is easy
that beauty is always preferred
If I have to choose which bigots
feign disgust for me
do I want to be mocked for my form
or restricted to a pedestal
for there are always bigots
always restrictions
beauty wouldn't remove hardship
it would only change the burdens
I have to carry
I'm not ugly, per se,
I have a symmetrical face
fair skin, fair hair,
and sky colored eyes
but I'm large, a girth greater than most
my hair is unconventionally cut
my skin less than flawless
and, worst of all, my movement is stilted
I stumble ungracefully through life
Would I prefer to be thin
to look like a picture in a magazine
so that all the men flock to me
and the women envy
Could I deny myself food
and run myself ragged
spending hours primping
to grasp for that improbable goal?
So far the answer is no,
I do not choose conventional beauty
Instead I choose comfort,
and boast pridefully
of the other qualitie…

What you consider lazy I live as survival
My body doesnt work like yours
If I work to hard I pay for it
Not in a metaphorical life ballance way
But in real life flemmy illness and pain
I dont get to book my day full
Unless I'm willing to crash many after
Took years to accept my limitations
Spent my youth acting physically normal
And then crying when my body rebelled
Wasnt until my thirties that I got a clue
When I finally accepted my limitations
Changed my attitude about my lack
I choose whats important to me
I'm independant and self supporting
I'm proudly working disabled
And, no, I dont have much else
I had to give up the dream of more
To truely appreciate what I have
Stopped focusing on whats missing
And, instead, focus on what I've got.

My body punishes me for surviving
each morning of getting up
each week of going to work. I'm tired of being tired.
And grounchy at being grumpy.
And worked up about being anxious. Pain is not a plesant companion.
Discomfort is not desired.
Paranoia can piss off.All I want is to sleep a couple days
so I can feel a little less extra
be a smidge closer to okay.

Is happiness content
Like a long slow walk
Or is it bubbling joy
Like a burst of pleasure
I have experienced both
But live with neither
I am unsettled and uneven
Like a well worn road
My discomfort is familiar
Even as it disatisies
I aim for content
Grasping moments of joy
And still dont understand
Exactly what happiness is.

I am an unwavering atheist
No faith and no spritality in me
But I would never wish to remove
The innocent belief of anotherHow cruel a person I would be
To wish someone loose faith
Just so they don't contradict
My strongly held worldviewI dont care how you find comfort
In this random and uncaring world
If it doent harm you or another
I encourage any peace you can keepThe only part of faith and belief
I can always disagree with
Is that which harms or shames
Or forces itself onto anotherI am not an unkind person
Some even call me empathetic
My lack of belief and faith
Doesnt make me a less caring human.

Being human hurts peoples feelings
When I treat you like I wanna be treated
Golden rule doen't account for difference
When I treat you as you expect
Platinum rule doesnt teach difference
When I act without reflecting
I'm almost guarenteed to hurt another
There is no rule for just being ourselves
No rule that will stop unintentional hurt
So like a gentle bull in a china shop
I am myself but try not to harm
I know being me is right for me
But may not be what others need.

Change isnt for the better
Its random and messy
It sneaks up on a person
Long time coming and suddenly hereChange isnt for the worst
Its personal evolution
Unexpected metamophisis
Waking up with a point-of-viewChange is rarely a choice
People dont change when they try
They change because life happens
Because you can't escape growthChange is a netural force
It is both big and small
You cant capture or avoid it
But you can learn to acept it.

I dont understand boredom
Not as more than a fleeting concept
How can anyone miss
All the things to learn and try
There is a neverending list
Pick a random unexplored topic
And i fall down a rabit hole
The minuia can fill a lifetime
I dont think i have enough life
To explore all subjects
So I settle on fleeting passions
Toped off by well researched interests
But I still stugle to understand
How people find time for boredom.

This body didn't come with a return policy
I didn't get to choose its defects
Neither did I choose my circumstances
In how I was raised or where I came from
This is the life I was givenI could lament the randomness
And spend my days bemoaning
Because my life is often not easy
Everyday is tainted by struggles
That don't seem to be the normIn one way I lucked out
Exposed to two versions of suffering
One who pained all those around her
Another who choose a better attitude
I got to learn there is a choiceI dont want to pass around my pain
And this isnt always an easy achievement
Sometimes discomfort makes me silent
But when I can, I choose plesant
I aim to be a brighter presence There are things in life
I did not choose and cannot change
But my attitude is not one of those
I decide my small affect on this world
With a smile instead of a grimace.

Young people are assholes
Not on purpose, mind you
Their honesty is oblivious
They dont have years of experience
To explain others behavior
They blithely assume
That we are all the same
They are ignorant to difference
Until someone teaches them
That all snowflakes are frozen water
But each one has a unique design
And we humans live in that contrast
Each of us the same and different.

Men are predators
They hunt everyday
Sex is their game
And I dont wanna playBoys are taught to dominate
Early in their youth
Girls romance about rescue
Despite its ugly truth I dont blame their nature
But I expect them to be tame
We have a choice in behavior
Respect comes with refrainI will not blame victims
I will not excuse perpatrators
But perhaps I will shame society
For raising boys into a rapers.

I'm told not to compare
Focus on the same, not different
But when I get close to someone
The stories they share are foreign
A world a part from where I live
Are their stories all lies?
Some partial truth hiding harsh reality
Or am I terminally unique?
So special that I really can't relate
I know I'm not the only wierd ever
But I am wierder than most
I romantacize meeting my weird match
Another wierd that sounds familiar
The right amount of wierd, together.

It seems silly
That a woman being strong
And speaking out for women
Is seen as confrontational
And taken as an offenseThey treat our power as a challenge
Like they think we want to win
As if were trying to replace them
When in reality we want respect
We want to stand beside themMaybe its fear of the difference
Because female strength is new
We can get the same things done
But we may not take the same path
We will not defer to the old wayThe thing that irks me the most
Is I'm trying to understand them
Im trying to make it easier for them
Even as they throw shade
On my burgeoning power.

Faded black pavement
White stripes directing
Analog road to elsewhere
Flock of vehicles
Construction gets in the way
Making the drive longer
Trapped in my metal cage
Feeling tight with expectation
Someday I'll get home
To the cool stillness.

Some of us are outliers
We hear the voices around us
Telling stories of life
And those tales do not match
The world we live in
There is a kind of silence
A solitude in difference
As speaking our abnormal
Is shocking to be heard
Even when to us
Its comfortably familiar
Conforming doesnt comfort
It chafes againt our unique
We stand to one side
Just outside the crowd
Looking for another deviant
To bond with
Not all of us are normal
But all of us have value
A place within this world
Even if only to define
The norm of all the rest.