Shea Butter

It hides the bruise on my right shoulder.
The one that I got, while riding in that shopping cart,
When we went to the Rite-Aid before school,
In the parking lot.
I didn’t trust you enough to let you catch me,
Because I didn’t think you’d be able to.
You’d think I was fat, being 112.
You’d drop me instantly and think,
That I was nothing but a stupid, ugly girl,
The way they all do.
But you reached out to catch me,
The second I tipped over,
And I veered right,
Thus,
The road-rash on my shoulder.


It hides the scar on my left knee.
The one I got, when I was two, or so,
And I had just learned to dribble my new red bouncy ball,
In the courtyard.
I didn’t think I would fall, in fact, I didn’t think at all,
Because I was having too much fun.
There was something that I could finally do,
Without the help of my parents.
I was running and dribbling at the same time,
And I could feel the wind,
Blow through my curly hair.
I was a cute toddler.
Too cute to realize you need to watch your step,
Or else you will fall.
And I did.
Thus,
The ice pack to my tiny left knee minutes later.

And it hides the reasons why.
It hides the fact that maybe I wanted to fall,
Out of that shopping cart, going 15 miles an hour.
It hides the fact that maybe even at two years old,
I wanted to know what pain felt like,
Because I’d never experienced it before.
Well, now I know,
It’s not a fun feeling.
Even when you, yourself, control it.
Not for me.
So the next time you come around and break my heart,
I know it’ll be soon,
I’ll whip out my shea butter, and make everything okay.
But the container reads, for external use only.
I wish I had known that before I bought it.
Now what?


June 24, 2011