like a virgin

I am a new woman
every day
when I wake up
and not just because of the
diet, wardrobe, and makeup

I've been pouring through
books
with each cup of decaf
coffee with two splendas
and light cream
listening to all of the songs I
feel like I missed

making lists of films I have to
see
and books I have to
read

Almost like I've regressed to
my senior year of college
stocking the too many bookshelves
in my room
with Salinger, Vonnegut, Mamet
and Ginsberg

Listening to conversations between
people who seem cooler
measuring myself against them
with this imaginary ruler
trying to mold myself into
the same kind of perfect
that they seem to me

And every so often I stop and
question myself
about why I've embarked on this
self-improvement journey
how I've developed these benchmarks
whose ideal is this
size 8 revolutionary
practicing
self-control, yoga, perfectly coordinated
ensembles EVERY DAY
and abstinence

from sugar

I wonder to myself as my friends
do aloud
"how much of this is for me
and how much is for you?"

but really it doesn't matter
because it's all for me
after all
I want you for myself

so I'll keep dragging myself
out of bed before the sun decides
whether or not to shine
make it to the gym before the rush
run without going anywhere
(I don't want to run away
if you can't find me)

stock up on Miles Davis albums,
Kerouac volumes and
thrift store designer fashion

and I'll make it all look good

and if you don't notice my giant
silver earrings
my slimming figure
my makeup so perfectly painstakingly
applied that it looks like I'm not wearing any
my copy of Catcher in the Rye sticking out
of my knock of designer gym bag
my on stage prowess
my hair like a lioness
my casual on purpose Rick Springfield T-shirt
ripped jeans and hot pink heels

maybe this self-improvement plan
will seem like a waste

but if it really works
I'll actually believe it this time
when I shrug my shoulders and say
"his loss."