{"sf1_id":1321003,"sf2_id":"XnrJv0on","title":"Somehow, she's me","author":"makyo","words":265,"posted_at":"2018-04-04T17:06:00.000Z","tags":["Experimental","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1321003-somehow-she-s-me","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/XnrJv0on","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/2e/54/2e541100-99cc-4963-95ba-517079cc462e","description":"#11 of Poetry\n\nBit of drivel trying to bust through some stagnation.","content":"Her hair is tied with a ribbon  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Saying \"This is not for you.\"  \nShe wears a pendant of stamped brass  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Saying \"Non sum qualis eram.\"  \n\"I have been a hero since birth,\"  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; She tells herself,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; As though that will somehow  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Explain her scars.  \n  \n  \nShe pierced her own ears,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; But did a shit job of it.  \nHer tattoos tease around  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; the edges of her identity.  \nHer bones are ley-lines,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; She tells herself,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Strung with symbols  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Heady with meaning.  \n  \n  \nShe has a certain \"fuck you\" inflected  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \"Je ne sais quoi\" about her.  \nHer clothes bespeak  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; carefully constructed laziness.  \n\"I've got my own style,\"  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; She tells herself,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; While doing all she can  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; To not be seen.  \n  \n  \nShe studied order through science  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; and found it chaotic.  \nShe studied chaos through music  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; and found it inviable.  \n\"I'll work with words.\"  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; She tells herself  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; She'll write a book,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Or publish stories.\n\n\u0026nbsp;  \nShe wanted to be a bus driver  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; when she grew up.  \nThen a linguist, then a biologist,  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Then a composer, a conductor.  \nShe never wanted to be  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; What she became;  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; The irony of which  \n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; Is not lost on her.  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1227705-the-dogs-assure-me.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1335639-post-op-images.json"}}