What I Wore Wednesday: in the blue
I wear the clothes that I’ve really always liked – just the less frenzied version. Style now is such a blending of the 70’s – a style I borrowed in my teens, the 80’s – a style I longed for in the gangly years, and the 90’s – a style I can’t help. I am certainly a child of the 90’s.
Around the time that Cobain breaks my heart and dies, just right as I discover him, right as I light candles in my shut room and fill notebooks with my scribbled longhand, I think Forever is now with my love. I write misunderstood ten thousand ways.
I wear the blue, taste smoke, want lost in the woods to find the place I carved my name decades ago. I want to still have the knife that carved our names. But I’m only 15. Don’t call me fake. I can mix a tape that makes you want to kiss me until the sun comes up.
I can walk a long dirt road in the black of night – feel intimate with coyotes’ breath.
We grow up. I still believe that Forever Love is now. I’m a believer. I have given names to children.
I find my clothes in the dirty pile, and I wash them, and sometimes I put them away.
I’ve gotten better at only keeping what fits, quieter now, buy what wears long.
God finally looks ancient. Silent in the bathroom mirror, I wear blue.
I remember being alone, a different kind of blue, the coyotes’ call.