Sirens call
I was eight when she first told me her name, and I listened to her voice and wrote her name, and when I was eight the teachers told me to ignore her and to write the name I was assigned, but she whispered to me and it didn't feel right
As I grew I liked purple sparkling bicycles, and soft comfortable clothes, that no boy would wear
and I grew my hair long and I felt better and closer to the voice when I looked
at my sisters clothes. And the siren in my head whispered to me to try them on and I did and I was happy, but I had to put them away and not get caught and the voice said its OK.
My father and brothers raised me to be a john Wayne, six guns pulled and cowboy hat on
and I was taught boys play football, and shoot things
and she whispered to me that it was OK. And when I shot that bird, it falling to the ground flapping, my heart broke and I swore I'd never do it again and she told me it was OK.
When I was held by two boys and beaten by a third, she whispered to me that it was OK
and when those teachers taught me a lesson because I was out of line she told me it was OK.
Whispering to me at how beautiful the women are in my fathers playboy and my moms clothing catalog she whispered some day and when I watched my mother drink she whispered its OK
and when my best friend was with that girl and my jealousy was raging she told me it was OK
I drank from my mothers potions and she would manifest herself in the mirror and I found myself looking at her and realizing how beautiful and real, and complete she was and I asked her where she had been and she whispered back to me that she hadn't ever left me.
when I would sleep she would call to me and my dreams would manifest themselves. my best friend loving me, my legs wrapped around him and I felt complete and she would whisper to me, that it was OK.
when I started losing my hair I cried, and struck out, and hated myself, and destroyed my friendships, burned bridges and she whispered to me that it was OK.
I tried to bury the voice, by wanting to be tied down, gagged, and controlled. I tried to bury the voice by becoming ultra male and she still whispered to me that it was OK.
And as I got older the siren called less, I found busy work, and I found marriage and I found I was profoundly unhappy. And in my dreams the Siren would call and as a ray of sunshine joy would enter my heart. and in my dreams she was always saying something I couldn't quite hear, whispering to me to change, to dress and to be who I really am and I told her I couldn't and she said it was OK.
And later when I remarried and struggled and blamed my problems on depression, on work, on problems in the marriage, the siren whispered to me that it as OK.
and now...she calls and I understand who she is, I finally recognize the voice, and I say its OK.
