Strip-mining.

Tue, 05/07/2013 - 12:09 -- emlamp

Location

27407
United States
36° 1' 3.0108" N, 79° 51' 47.8188" W

Some people fear clowns and heights.
I fear cancellations and strip-mining.

We're never,
Lose-your-house, poor
But often we are,
No-food-in-the-cabinets,
No-soft-voices-in-the-house, poor.
And a couple times we've been no-birthday-or-Christmas, poor.
And more often,
Than my warped mind can delate and run from,
We've been don't-you-dare-mention-anything-broken-or-missing-or-lacking, poor.
Because unpaid for houses can only keep in so much yelling.
And only so many running-on-empty,
Midnight runaway plans.
And only so many you know they don't drink,
But you can see them wanting to.
And only so many fists missed because it's immoral.
And only so many dirty glances and painful double heart beats.
Cause this is not the first time this has happened,
Oh no,
I have been introduced to,
Too many "IMPORTANT"
Or "IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED" stamps in my life time,
That sometimes I feel like they're stamped on me.
"POOR GIRL"
"HOLE FILLED CLOTHES"
"CHEAP T-SHIRTS"
"CAN'T PAY FOR COLLEGE"
"CAN'T AFFORD ANYTHING"
"DOESN'T DESERVE TO EXSIST"
"BELIEVES THIS IS ALL HER FAULT"
"LITERALLY ISN'T WORTH THE PAPER THIS WILL BE PRINTED ON"
These things are my first tattoo,
Like a half ripped sleeve of truth.
Look,
Look at me.
Know my truth.
Know what is plastered and bored into and onto my skin.
Don't shy away from the awkward stares,
And painful,
Back crushing truth.
That my father can't support his family,
That my mother won't support her family,
That I am the unsupported in full support.
Look at my scarred skin,
Look at the red ink,
The bold faced,
All capped,
Truth:
"UNKNOWN FUTURE, BECAUSE OF A KNOWN PROBLEM."

Strip-mining is a practice,
Where miners only dig in certain areas,
Skip every few feet to save time and resources;
Strips of land unused.
It scares me for two reasons:
1) They must sometimes miss worthwhile things.
2) The cave walls break enough to shake,
But never enough to admit they're not whole any longer.

I feel like life is a strip mine.
It looks for what it wants in anyone,
It believes it can find it need where it looks,
But it skips over people,
And leaves behind places that seem worthless,
That seem like less at first glance.
That need some work;
Help.
That have the possibility of greatness,
But never gives everyone the same chance,
The same time,
The same look,
The same hope.

I have been strip-mined.
I have been broken enough to shake,
But I feel still unwholed together.
Hear the rumble,
Of the cave,
That is me,
Shaking.

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