Confetti

I feel trapped. Inside my own body. There’s so much I want to change about myself and who I am, but I can’t. I feel the tiny ribbons of who I am fighting against each other inside me. Under my left shoulder I feel the red ribbon pulling me to give who I love everything and anything I have to offer. Through my arms I feel my blue ribbons telling me that what I’m giving is mine, things that they worked to earn me. They tell me no. In my thighs I feel the purple ribbons complain of such desire for things that the orange ribbon in my head knows is not right. They tear each other apart, confetti. Wrapped around my bones I feel a white ribbon straighten my spine and push me to do better, to carry more. The thing is, I don’t know if the white ribbon is telling me to carry more for myself, or others. Wrapped around my throat, there is a green ribbon. This one chokes back words that I want to say most, that will do the worst things. Green ribbon let’s out word vomit when it isn’t paying attention and I make mistakes. Green ribbon restricts me and frees me all at once, my words die in my esophagus. In control of my knees, claves, and feet is yellow ribbon. Yellow ribbon straightens my walking patterns in variation to how much alcohol has been consumed. But sometimes it falters and I find myself stumbling completely sober and standing straight up when I should be doubled over. These ribbons wrap around each other and meet in knots. They pull on each other until one is in control of the wrong thing and I’m falling. I’m falling so fast that the air moving past my face is keeping me from breathing and- Confetti. I am confetti.