You may not give a damn, but I must tell you how I am.
I have learned to navigate my microwave from button pizza to start.
At the market, I consistently place the same items in my cart.
Terror is the sweating glass that coaxes to be moved near,
that sends out its leaky loveliness to destroy my computer, my dear.
No matter the age that stamps my worth, or the numbers that you see
my excitedness over colored pens reveals the age I should be.
I don’t desire to see the world, I am happiest where I am.
Arduous and annoying defines an expensive travel plan.
That how to achieve sophistication is totally beyond me,
but halfway there is wrapping turnip greens in nori
To be driven by logic and reason, a good robot it has been said
yet I am still irrationally terrified of fruits that are red.
I won’t dress nicely, in a form that would attract.
My style and manner has no cunning, strategy, or tact.
That I feel in wonder at things with underneath spaces,
each an abyss of dropped things in hidden places.
These colorful dreams, sharper than the reality I know
take me to breathtaking places that I’ll never go.
Tell me how I must change, from your words I do run,
despite deep down knowing I shall change for just one.
That finding all those tiny bugs did not tell me clear,
that a much larger bug was lurking near.
I won’t wear makeup, you will see me in the raw.
Stinky and hideous, is the beastie that you saw.
I am never lonely, and I do not reach for the phone,
despite the fact that I am tangibly alone.
My pajamas stained in toothpaste, small pandas and kale,
My once olive skin, now smooth, and covered pale.
Spongebob square pants mouthwash is the kind of thing
that gives these days a silky, and playful ring.
Beat up toes, Achilles heels, and purple feet,
telling a story of the kind of girl you shall meet.
I do not sleep when I can, I want it when I should not.
I will not talk when others do, for conflict is not sought.
I fall in love quietly, a mental symphony of my own,
stays with me through the passing of time, never alone.
To take things so seriously, I can no longer do,
Your world a timid beige, I will paint it blue.
Wisdom comes with quiet memory, titanium dreams.
Dancing through cranial valleys, heart beat seams.
The summation of life experience is more than should be,
The deus ex machina never came, but charged a fee
the set difference of that painted blue,
it turns out is you.
mariposa mente, the imperfection that you see
is that which makes you beautiful to me
Suggested Citation:
Sochat, Vanessa. "Mariposa Mente." @vsoch (blog), 27 May 2015, https://vsoch.github.io/2015/mariposa-mente/ (accessed 16 Apr 24).