I read The Bell Jar in one sitting.
I was in my childhood bedroom I had long out-grown,
stared down by horse figurines and old trophies.
CDs and books from every episode of life were around me.
In the closet puzzles and board games lined the shelves.
Formal gowns and Halloween costumes pressed against the closet door
Among others, a Disney princess and generic witch,
bored after their one night of fun years before.
A chronic overachiever;
Student council and a toothy smile;
Sports and show tunes and a boyfriend;
A’s and clothes and counting calories.
Free time was service
or drinking with tolerable peers in a field,
depending on the day.
I did not know what I was doing.
I still don’t.
I am staring at the fig tree
watching them fall;
I am trapped in a phone booth,
tangled in superman suits.
I did not cry
When I read the part with the figs
I was not sad or surprised at all.
It seemed perfectly rational.
To have so many
and so few options,
that the only real thing to do was to lie down.