Leah Toledano
joy_and_me
hi j, it’s me. i don’t mean to bother you but a lot has been on my mind. one spritz of pink sugar
on my neck protects me like an amulet. are they bad girls that act like they’re good or good girls
that act like they’re bad i’m not sure but i found out which perfume they wear and now i wear it
everyday. they are so pretty and they always get what they want.
let me tell you about something that happened in fourth grade. i was in such a bad mood that
morning i ran into the backseat barefoot and screaming. i don’t remember why. when my mom
pulled up to the drop off line i realized i forgot my socks and shoes. i’m never on time because i
have to do lots of stuff to look less ugly and things that seem to come natural to other girls don’t
come natural to me. i pluck my hairs and i always suck in but i still look weird and fat most days.
not a lot has changed. i’ve died a thousand times in my mom’s backseat and i know i keep
telling you the same stories from a few years ago but they feel like ticks. atmospheres i can’t fix.
i scratch then i itch.
imagine my bare feet sticking to the humid plastic store floor inside of walgreens. my bare feet
walked me around while i panicked in search of a pair of shoes to wear to school that day. they
pretty much only sold hideous flip flops. my mom became frustrated with me. she wanted me to
choose something and then suggested we buy a pair of black water shoes. i begged her not to. i
couldn’t be seen looking like that. sometimes i am a brat. a good girl that acts bad. then we went
to target and i settled for a pair of mary janes. i realized never again in my life will i walk around
walgreens and target without shoes on and that made me sad. i almost refused the mary janes
so we could go to payless. i wanted my feet to feel a carpeted store floor.
my mom doesn’t understand what’s happening to my body even though she says she does. i’m
looked at sideways by everyone. recently i feel even worse because i started bleeding while on
a large boat called a cruise ship and you don’t seem like someone who’s been on one because
your weather isn’t as temperamental as mine. my shorts turned bright red and i didn’t know what
to do. my dad threw me his napkin so I could cover myself up. i think my body is a problem. i
confide in you with this stuff because despite my inconveniences, i’m still lovable according to
god. please don’t judge me. i was told that i was the number one customer at blockbuster this
year. well not me per se but my dad. it feels good when he buys me things like movies and
perfume.
my problems are undying like the ocean. i stand on the beach and try to release them into the
salty air but after they whirl around for a while they dissolve into little condensation droplets that
end up becoming part of a wave that crashes at my feet on the shore. when i push things away
they come right back. and i’m realizing that just cause i located the wound doesn’t mean i can
make it close. my cuts keep re-opening. will it ever feel the same way between me and my
parents as it does between us j? look i found a perfect seashell. you can have it. i think i like
you. i might seem upset for no reason sometimes but don’t be afraid of me j. don’t let your feet
carry you away.
Leah Toledano is a writer and artist based in Portland, Oregon. Her most recent poetry and visual art can be found in Dreck Lit, LURCH, Ethics, and forthcoming in wind-up mice. Her short films can be found on Vimeo. Find Leah irl hosting a reading series called Mental Peace Poetry in PDX. Visit leahtoledano.com if you’d like more.