Adulting by Charlotte Seley

Adulting

I never feel as desperate as when   I'm trying
to open a pickle jar     or clip my cat's claws
as he swipes clean between my eyes   or when
the shower rod fell off the wall that one time
I lived in that Somerville apartment with a group
of three other boys   they ate all my food   and once
I had to piss in the sink   all over the cups and
dishes they never thought to wash   the house
was old     appeared to have horse hair in the wall
apparently before I lived there     a random guy
was known to sleep in the vestibule   sometimes
the porch too   a desperate living quarters for
desperate times     it was $500 a month and I had
a walk-in closet so what is the real complaint here?
My bed would shake when my roommate would
fuck his girlfriend     who practically lived there too
and the other girlfriends making us seven   sharing
one bathroom     I tried very little and tried hard
to be there as little as possible     a friend of theirs
pounded on my door to come in   and didn't I want to
and I didn't      I hated the walk from Davis Square
and freezer burnt pints of ben & jerry's at tufts convenience
which a Yelper describes as smelling like “the ass
of a long deceased beast”   but when it snows
and snows and you're stuck     in the house of horse hair
and horrors     you make sacrifices       before adulting
became a buzzword     it was a real skill     I lacked and lack
I still eat cheese squares over the sink      think this is how
to nurture a body in decline     my body is an old truck
I drive around the country    never relying on the kindness
of strangers    but rather the mythology of Dateline
that most women get killed by someone they know
so most strangers are probably safe      statistically
or rather in a retelling of my tragedies by Lester Holt
I've done a lot of dumb shit   but never died
it's actually remarkable    in the first grade a boy
punched me in the nose    blood all over my little
mermaid puff paint sweatshirt     and I knew him
and I still didn't die   the principal made him
apologize but he wasn't sorry   he's probably still swinging
fists out there for all I know   punching little girls with
opinions and swagger     what do I even know about
being a grown woman and why do I tolerate the bare
minimum of decency—a stranger didn't kill me today
the boy on the bus didn't punch me today   I paid
my bills on time and ate a leafy vegetable—I am
desperately looking for good days in bad places
and everyone starts with what they can cobble together—
oblong threads of lint, spare change, a tiny sliver of hope

Tags: charlotte seley