fiercely believing

how do i exist
if no one believes
in me?
my parents
believed in me as a pretty baby
a quiet baby
not so much
when i bloomed
into a strange flower
different 
from them
short of cannibalizing me
like disillusioned 
hamsters
their belief 
faded
sisters
believed in me
in theory
when convenient
one brother 
believed in me
i can say that
because he is dead
& no one can tell me
different
teachers & therapists
well sure
but they were paid to
boyfriends
husbands
i was a game
to win
an uprising 
to squash
a puzzle
to berate
no belief required
friends…?
seemingly quick 
to betray
to disappear
to spout belief
while demonstrating
the opposite
so
much like the tooth fairy
whom i kept alive
way past the age most 
let her dissolve
i keep myself alive
fiercely believing
despite evidence
urging me
to fade away.

while crying in the shower yesterday, i wrote this poem. with the challenge of getting out of the shower & past four screaming minions to the journal on my desk to compose it before it washed away down the drain.
picture that.
i did get dressed first, so be sure to add clothes.

karl shapiro, i think, once wrote a poem about crying in the shower. i think i used to recite it in speech contests. little did i know how useful that poem would prove.

this thought is a bit melodramatic, i suppose. a bit emo. angsty. 
but, seriously, it is something i struggle with. i find it very difficult to believe that anyone believes in me. 
and if they do, i dismiss it as their not knowing me well enough to know any better…or knowing that one day they will stop believing & walk away.
i think it is our nature
at this point in our history
to not believe in each other
to not have invested feelings for one another
in a culture of convenience & right now
belief is too risky.

i made peanut butter cookies (which are kick ass) and i am going to make lo mein & eggrolls for dinner.
thanksgiving just has a bad feeling for me. a holiday of bad energy. as a pagan witch, i have like three harvest holidays & believe in giving thanks every day…so thanksgiving really is redundant for me.

but i do hope y’all are having a good day.
i believe in you!

ps. while pooping this morning (i do my best thinking in a locked door bathroom) i decided i really do need to put my melodramatic art journal musings into a collection with self-portraits. you know, one of those self-publish books.
how do i do that? are their sources that any of y’all recommend? thoughts?