Eyes Already Dead Poem by Vonnie Postit

sitting in the car, behind the wheel,
eyes already dead.

sitting in the car,
my leg propped up on the chair,
i begin to examine it.
i feel the small hairs, their persistence
to remain in me has more power
than i have felt over myself in a long time.

i asses the ombré of my skin,
the way my feet are the darkest part
about me.
my toes shine with fresh, white paint,
reminding me of my rich mother.
i wonder if she ever feels out of place
in white- washed nail salons.
i have always admired her confidence.

slowly, my legs turn lighter as my gaze
travels up my legs and toward my groin.
the coffee of my calves is a brilliant
color, beautiful and soft.
i have never found their thickness
comfortable; they write me apology
letters as i shame them.

the whiteness of my thigh is the most
abrasive of all.
its dotted with spots of different colors
representing the entirety of the rainbow.
the rainbow of my thigh is only visible
against the whitest, thickest part of my
thigh; the part of me that i hate the
most.
(were rainbows designed for whiteness
alone?)

and I wonder, will i ever forgive my body
for the things it can't control?
will i ever forgive my body for the things
it can control?

sitting in the car, behind the wheel.
with eyes already dead.