Crazy
Used to be a thing that was sexy
When I was 16
Be crazy!
Be unusual, think out of the box
Dress weird – but sexy
Drink.
Get crazy!
Kiss boys – but not too many.
Make sure the crazy drunk
Helps you kiss
But forget the nights things went too far.
They never mentioned
When I was 16
That crazy was something I should grow out of
Not into
That when I was 30 drink would be a crutch
Crazy would be a label stuck on my head
Making me undesirable
For anything long term
Or would make me tie myself to
Be dragged along behind
Other types of crazy that would
Tear me to shreds
Crazy is sexy on a night out
Crazy is scary in the tears the next morning
Crazy is me blowing out my cheeks and saying no
When there doesn’t seem an option
Crazy is me shrinking back from a yes that would
Trace me into less than
Crazy is not a choice.
It is not a pair of jeans I can step into and out of.
It is a lifetime of bright and dark and pain in my chest.
Of learning to pick my way with broken glass in my feet.
Of feeling more than.
Of seeing.
Not choosing.
Just being.
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