MY VANITY STOPS ME, BY LIZZIE HARRIS
As a girl, I saw my face
at the base of every totem pole.
As a believer, I believed
some people were happy.
As a teen, I piled in cars
like boys could take me places.
As a mouth, I poured out
to ears like they would drain me.
Once I loved life so much
it drove me crazy —
too tired to sleep, too hungry to eat,
too angry at death to go on living.
In daylight, I like to pretend
I’m still lonely — a stockyard waiting
for deliveries. The truth is I do have a few
soft hunches about what’s missing.
Life is serious, but when it’s dim
and you love me, I almost don't feel it.
Lizzie Harris is an American poet. Her debut collection, Stop Wanting, was published by CSU Poetry Center. She was born in southern Arizona, raised in Pennsylvania, and lives in Brooklyn, NY with her husband and daughter.