Roots.

Kylie Necochea

why not root for myself

I need to remind

myself of where I

come from

where I’ve grown from

who I am

who I could be

there is fire underneath my

muscles but doubt festers above

all over

self doubt feels so good on my

skin it’s comfortable

to sit in

to wear around

to move through the

world in it knows me

and don’t I just want to be known by

someone or something

even if it quietly burns all my bridges

that’s what no one says

that the self doubt feels

good it’s nice almost

a preface to what I don’t want to

face a protective shield

against judgment

fuel for perfectionism

anxiety’s fountain of

youth “more,” it sings

as if it’s giving me a

show that I wanted to

pay for

let the sun burn it off of me

clean my skin with warmth

again let me be real again

let me bleed into the life I’ve been

missing let the truth seep into me

deep

let me remember where I’ve come

from who I am

where I’ve been

I don’t want to spend all my days rebuilding

anymore I want to root for myself

again

and when I meet

you again

be

built

be

whol

e be

new

know

me

root for me

I want to live in Lake

Tahoe by the lake

North Shore

drive to south shore on the

weekends and Mammoth in the

summers

I want to drive in from the

airport Kenny Rogers on the

radio

I’ll sing the wrong lyrics to “The

Gambler” or Paul Simon

you can call me

Betty or The

Cranberries,

talk about Dreams we

had and have.

Wide Open Spaces

I listened to The Dixie Chicks in her

kitchen in April

I like how she sees the

world and I want to be in

it with her whole

yellow

hair

monkey

s

25lb. cat and all

I want to eat across from you

and make pasta in your grandmother’s

kitchen in Brooklyn

she was thinking of

moving she didn’t.

I can relate to her

and I’ll try to make her laugh

she’ll wink at you from across the

table and neither of you will think that

I saw it.

I don’t know if she’ll like all of

me but she’ll like some of what

I say, she’ll see too much of

herself in me like most

grandmothers do.

we’ll walk around the city in the

winter in puff jackets

I’ll wear the one you made fun of

when I stocked the vitamin cooler last

summer you said, “Are you following

me?”

I said, “Something like that.”

you’ll show me all the places you became

yourself in all the places you went to in college

the place you grew

up in I’ll be a child

again

I always am with

you you always

smile at it like I’m

a girl

who thinks Portugal is in South America,

or a child who thinks shoes are a suggestion,

a first grader who thinks “cannot” is two

words that made her lose the spelling bee in

first grade Nolan won.

I want to drive into Lake Tahoe with Stephen King’s memoir on my

lap in the backseat of her parents’ car

again

they’ll like me less

but I’ll like me more this

time I’ve found myself

they might not

know it but I do

I

d

o

I

d

o

.