"Fuck This Shit" An Autobiography For Riot Grrls #12
copyright (c) 1997 by Annalee Newitz
1.
oh, it's just a scab
I thought as I watched her climb down from the treadmill
leg by leg
her upper body began to cartwheel
but then her arms found places, one above the other, on the wall
while she stretched her calves
and I watched them carefully just to be sure
that big raspberry brown patch
covering the fist-sized bulge of her tensed calf muscle
was indeed a healing wound
and not--as I had originally believed--a birthmark
which would have made her lower body mildly repulsive always
for a moment I wondered what could have caused her injury
and then dismissed it (fall and scrape) as nothing
because clearly she would get better and forget the feeling of
disfigurement
that would have clung to her forever
had it been some mistake built into the cells of her skin
she returned to the machine and continued to run forward in place
her body reminded me of looking in the mirror when I was a teenager
back then I wore shorts all summer long
and thought, no damage is ever permanent
here I go again
trying to figure out what happened between then and now
to make me see in every scab something indelible and inherited like a name
1-25-97
2.
I cut it off
all at once
and therefore went from thick cascades running down my back
to nothing but a fringe around my face
long hair was my burden
it was the dead stuff my head couldn't help but hold onto
I was afraid to cut it off
and ashamed to wear it
that day I will remember for the rest of my life
when I said
now it's finally over
and told her smiling to make it short, very short
strangely enough my body never forgot the way it felt
and even now I sometimes dream awake
of how I must look as I engage in a particular conversation
and see someone with long brown hair that hangs down in disturbing
tangles
perhaps you already know
what this really means
2-19-97
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