Chalk Hearts

Thank you to the Soulful Poetry Collective for the impetus to share this perspective and the opportunity to participate in their challenge.

The retail holiday of exclusion
begins the day after Christmas when
aisles of tiny boxes of pastel hearts
with sweet messages
for the other kids
compete for shelf space with
cartons of notes for my classmates
and humongous chocolates
for people who don’t pay attention
to their loved ones
through the rest of the year

If I had a loved one
I would give him chocolates
every night

If I had a friend
Not once a year
but every single day
I would give her plush dogs
with love-encrusted bones
hanging from their jowls
or teddy bears hugging
jars of peppermints
so she would know
how grateful I was
that she saw
more than my tinted glasses
awkward movements
and Rubik’s Cubes

How grateful
that she could see
my sensitivities as awareness
my peculiarities as evolution

How grateful that she enjoyed
soul tickling conversation
and silence as necessary

Even if I didn’t have a friend
I would still be grateful
if others could see my clothes as
“comfortable so I could function”
rather than odd and shapeless
If they could accept me
rather than hold me at odds
while they seamlessly
shift shape to conform
to one another
seemingly just for conformity’s sake
then maybe my mailbox
the teachers make us pop up
like croci every year
would have pink cards
or red snoopy houses
or homemade cut out
construction paper hearts
still dripping glue
Or chalky heart candy
or chocolate heart candy
or any candy at all.

The retail holiday of exclusion
ends when the Easter bunny
lays it’s Cadbury eggs at checkout