Poetry: To B, or Not to B?

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Dear the letter

B

your solid, straight back

supporting your bulbous, boisterous bulbs

You are the most glorious letter and this is my love poem to you

You remind me of butterflies and beer, the way the summer sun glints off of the bottle in my father’s hand the way my brother breathes when he sees the wings of the butterfly flap against the wind

You remind me of bagpipes and bath tubs, how my mother used to take a bath each night to wash away the day how my fifth grade music teacher played the bagpipes every first day of school

how everybody thought it was lame, but when the next year came without bagpipes the world felt a little bit grayer

Dear the letter B this love poem to you is bolting all over the page, but the truth is, I haven’t been completely, boldly honest with you,

baby

To be completely truthful, your name reminds me of sadness, too you remind me of “to be or not to be,” what it means to be somebody

you remind me of Buddy Wakefield’s poem stating “I’d still like to be somebody, be somebody,”

and I don’t know what somebody I’d like to be. B. b.

You remind me of battlefields and bulimia,

the bulimia that made my body a battlefield,

of booze and bank accounts

You remind me that these things mean nothing as a child,

but everything a few short years later

You remind me of babies and breana, the sister that shouldn’t have been born but was,

the fear of losing again

You remind me of making something of

myself making someone of myself being somebody for her

but who

do i

want to

b?

Paige Schoppmann is a junior at Plymouth State University, studying English and women’s studies. She’s originally from Vermont. In her free time, Paige plays the French horn, sings, hikes, and spends time with her friends and family. She is also passionate about raising awareness about sexual assault, as well as travel.

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