By Ashley Beth
I am a beech tree
A member of the community
Or the half that you just want to see
Not listen to
Nope
Talking is the worst thing I can do
To communicate
Outside my community
But rather, smile in my sun kissed glory
You see
This summer, I remembered my Beach
And the salty tasting water
That rinses all misgivings
No longer slowly dying
Just once again living
I am a beech tree
I am meant to write messages on me
I have obeyed this Rule tragically
That XX gender linked curse
Dictating I am meant to be seen
And not really ever be heard
So I’ll sing to you with my golden skin
My hair will shout at you with a platinum glisten
My smile will suggest shyly why don’t you pick on someone your own size
My red stained lips will scream rebellion
And don’t forget my eyes
An intense disarmament of perception far sighted
Who look for the Dark
So I can change to Alighted
Ya Ima just stand here all quiet and such
People listen to women but they don’t hear much
I will surreally stand quietly
Just like the beech tree
And while I’m busy shutting up
You can read the messages written on me
I put them there
And I double, triple, diggidy dog dare
You to write some of your own
“Everything alters me
But nothing changes me.”
“Le surréalisme, c’est moi.”
Live Free. Live Completely.
