Cover Up

I’ve been peering into the cracking water faucet

and drowning in the stale white light.

The tiles, discolored like the whites of my eyes,

scream an invitation to sink into the water-stained tub

And scrub this sin off my skin.

Matte paint flakes off the wall like the wall said

“No,”

and it listened.

If only it were that easy.

Looking at my blurred reflection

in the toothpaste-splattered mirror,

nothing can strip the bitterness of

tequila and unwanted kisses from my mouth.

The health classes never told me

my friend would be the culprit,

and this bathroom would be his playground.

The health classes told me he couldn’t have.

3,000 square feet, he calls it home.

I call it hell. Tucked in the heart

of cookie cutter suburbia.

The bricks are a mask,

and it’s all about paving over the truth.

Wearing false innocence comes easily

When it’s all you’ve ever known;

and his face says he couldn’t have.

I’ve strolled through all the stop

signs in this neighborhood

and cringed at the names that roll

off my tongue like cursive,

camouflaging the upturned noses.

His parents pay their HOA fees and mow their lawn,

so he’s one of their own;

and they insist he couldn’t have.

City hall has enough glistening marble to

reflect this filth for the rest of my days.

Standing amongst thousands of people who followed

newspaper and magazine headlines,

ending up here.

Next to the opposite of the perfection they were searching for.

And they tell me he couldn’t have.

A country where patterns and shapes

flying on a piece of cloth

tell me I’m free,

but forget to mention the solid metal links of shame

I’m bound by.

They forget to mention he’s freer than I am,

because he couldn’t have.

I live here, in a country that says I’m guilty

and my intoxication is his pardon;

In a city where I’m to advertise my misfortune as my

mistake that I’m granted forgiveness for;

In a neighborhood where Elm Street Is called

Magnolia Drive. And Freddy hides;

In a home I was taught was the American dream

I was supposed to chase after;

In a bathroom where I just can’t

wash this off.