one day i will have a good day,
enough to call my own doing--
my fault for everything going
so well. i will call no one nor one
thing a savior, but my courage.
i will make me survive, become
survivor of my mess and dirt. no
more days to pick up a day of dirty
work. i will be worth too many
days for just one. one day. i will
recall the teetering of a smile, sincere
and relieved of faulty attempt to
be mine. it will dance on my face
like the hesitance of a tear, unafraid
to admit it comes from broken,
misbehaved behind skin, so i will
let go—set awake a filthy wanting.
to be a good day—unkempt and deserved.
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Charlotte Perkins Gilman Poems
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