marilyn
honey, you make depression look gorgeous
cut it like tulle, and make a skirt of your misery
and you smile so wide as tears stream down your cheeks
you make me want to buy it from a department store
and wear it like it’s yours
you make self-loathing look sexy
because i’ve spent my whole life learning
how to ignore my own suffering
and trust me when i say a little discomfort won’t stop me from working efficiently
which is not a compliment
but i still glow with pride as you give it to me
you carry the archetypes on your weary back
you do it perfectly
iron out your blemishes and mistakes
with makeup i can’t afford
but they say inner confidence is really what matters above all
and that’s probably why i always look like an awkward seventh-grader when i smile for the camera
but god, you’re fearless
you’re bright, and brilliant
like a barbie doll
clean-white teeth
and an hourglass waist
i bet you have it all
but i’m pretty sure
if i reach out and touch your arm
you will burst like a bubble
you will rot with the dirt
with your bottle blond hair
and your sunbeam smile
honey, i’m sorry
’cause you deserved better
’cause you should have lived
should have been happy and sad
and messy and confused
i’m sorry it’s normal
for girls to feel this lonely
and beat-up
and used
but i hope you sleep well
wherever you are
and you lay in bed for as long as you like
and eat really nice food to your heart’s content
and feel all right, for a while
i hope i’m not a tragedy
a horror story
or a cautionary tale
i hope we get our happy endings
i hope true love prevails
i hope there’s something up ahead
other than disappointment and misery
marilyn, i hope you’re happy
So, we had to research iconic historical photographs to recreate for my photography class from the 1900s, and one of the things my teacher suggested doing was finding celebrity photos we could attempt to very poorly recreate. I didn’t end up actually doing it, but in a last-ditch effort to find something in the exact right time period, I went on an hour long tangent on, like, Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe and before I knew it I had read their entire biographies, and, I don’t know, maybe I’m being a cliche here, but it was really sad! The world is really sad! It felt so unfair that these people’s lies, people who were so good at looking so happy had been through so much, and that their lives often ended in tragedy. And call me a sap, but I just feel like these people deserved better–I feel like so many people deserve better. I think one of the worst feelings in the world is watching a loved one suffer and not being able to stop it, only able to try and offer help.
I don’t really know much about Marilyn Monroe–and although her name is in the title, I didn’t really write it about her. I more intended to use the vague idea of her to frame the romanticization of mental illness, and discuss tragedu–and it worked really well as a framing device, so I ran with it. (Actual people who know about this person, I am so sorry, if I’m being horrible please let me know–I honestly considered not posting this for a few weeks, and I’m still on the fence about it honestly.)
Lots of love,
Lorna
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