Ode to 2019

By Cee Chávez

Today, I woke up

only it was different

I was different

I planted my feet

right on the green carpet

just like yesterday 

and the day before

looked in the mirror 

as I brushed my teeth

scanned for missing parts

additional appendages 

some physical change 

that must have occurred 

but found, to my dismay

I was just the same

Only, I wasn’t

Today, I woke up

I was no longer a woman

I dressed myself slowly

intentionally

after touching each part of my body 

as though it were new

sharp jaw led to

smooth neck 

full breasts 

soft stomach

and then,

my fingers traveled through a forest

arrived at a pool

marveled that this could be mine

that I was no longer a woman

In the mirror again, 

I wondered what to do 

with this new revelation

Did the prior morning ritual still stand?

Each plastic tube, container, concoction 

created and advertised to make women beautiful

fix and cover nonexistent problems

were no longer “mine”

This was unchartered territory

I went for deodorant, deciding

I could now make the rules as I went along

Today, I woke up

threw out all the dresses and skirts

shaved my head

filled in my perfectly shaped brows

curled my eyelashes 

before applying mascara

mixed three lipsticks 

to get the perfect shade of

fuck you and they/themme

before admiring my creation and walking out the door

Today, I came Home.

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Cee Chávez (they/them) is a queer, nonbinary, Chicanx poet, born and raised on the central coast of California. They are a teacher by occupation and a student of life. Their work has been published or is forthcoming in The Acentos Review, Fruitcake Magazine, The Northridge Review, East French Press, and elsewhere.