Instructions For The Death Of Me Poem by hollie ash

If you want to kill my spirit
Put me in a concrete jungle
And make the most heart-pounding thing that happens each day the navigation of traffic on the freeway.
Tell me it's not safe to go out after dark.
And that the view between those buildings is a winner

If you want to kill my spirit
Make take-out a 'good meal'
And have a saleslady try to convince me to dropp a mil on a plastic box that looks just like hers and yours and theirs.
Discuss the smog index as casually as you speak of mustard.
And tell me that the city skyline is as pretty as the stars it hides.

If you want to kill my spirit
Show me a thousand fake smiles on women who have no laugh lines
Then take me to a loud and crowded bar and ask me to get to know someone who looks and smells like everyone else in the room.
Ask me to sit on plastic chairs in the scorching sun
And rejoice about the luck that got us here.

If you want to kill my spirit
Make air conditioning a social status
And tell me the woman who just got out of her BMW in a fast-food uniform has it all together.
Then show me the mall where that great little café used to be,
and tell me the story of its owner's demise.

If you want to kill my spirit
Make me believe the dogs like their leashed asphalt walk
Bring me home to sit in front of the TV to watch 'Man vs. Wild' and tell me it was all done on a sound stage 45 minutes away.
Assure me the sirens are something I won't even notice after awhile.
And that sweating for no good reason justifies a day off from exercise. Or hard work.

If you want to kill my spirit
Buy me a one-way ticket to LA, baby
Make me think I'm not thin enough, rich enough or pretty enough. That I'm not hot enough, cool enough, sexy enough or smart enough.
Put a drink in my hand and max out my credit cards.
And when my spirit is dead, you can say I've come a long, long way.

(written at LAX, August 2007)