Blythe Baird
On the Romanticization of Mental Illness
After Kelsey Weaver
1. The noose is woven with strawberry blonde hair,
sunflowers caught loosely between braids.
2. The gun shoots confetti, stars, and your first
high school party- where you learn the right way
to play truth or dare is to always pick dare.
3. The scale, that perfect symmetrical square,
is painted with lavender nail polish. Its edges
are lined with french vanilla-scented candles.
4. The pills, when cracked open, are stuffed
with sparkles and glitter, floating delicately
in the milk of a fine china cereal bowl.
5. The razor is double-sided; one side
is dull, and the other is a makeup brush.
6. The gas chamber is clouding
with your mothers favorite perfume,
the black liquid she spritzed on her
wrists before family dinners.
7. The vomit is chunks of pastel
and weak, watered down sunlight.
8. The depression is not depression,
but a meditation, a backwards “Namaste.”
9. The smiles are melting wax.
Your teeth: dripping pearls.
10. Perhaps, the trouble came when we
began searching for the circle of life
in what has always been a noose.