COLOR ME CURED

BY ALEXZUNDRA TILLMAN

Nail polish sales are abnormally high right now

What was once my quirky pass time has become a habit of desperation

The only consolation is I’m not the only one 

Instead of answering the phone when friends try to check in

Instead of applying for jobs I’m overqualified for 

Instead of debating whether to apply for jobs I’m under qualified for

I buff, file, fuck up and re-paint my nails

Stab at my cuticles in a war against my own unmanageableness and call it self-care

Force myself into docility because god help me if I smudge the only thing that is giving me a

sense of accomplishment 

Mix and match colors to spark my decaying creativity 

It started with pale pinks

A show at innocence three coats thick so the mirror couldn’t blame me for the end of the world

as we knew it

Then I had to paint them black for the revolution 

For my brothers

then I realized the revolution wouldn’t paint their nails purple to acknowledge the bruises on my

back

On my sisters

So I did it myself

I painted my nails green to manifest the stimulus 

Then white to mourn and pray that all the opportunities I lost only got delayed

and not deferred 

I paint my nails red to motivate me up the hill of my procrastination

But I scrape it off on the underside of the dining room table two days later 

I paint them blue to calm the predatory anxiety I bring upon myself

I return to yellow every other week as a tribute to Oshun

To inspire divine thought, To feel worthy of this melanin

Then I have to paint my nails orange to hide my rage

That every color is exalted against my skin but I do it and my ancestors a disservice as I sit here

painting

There are pages to write and read

There are friends to call and console

And there are paths to walk

But I keep painting my nails

Saffron, gold, royaltea 

Mint, cerulean, peak-a-blue

Now they are the color of the sky during a storm

And my hope is that if I can just get the storm outside of myself the thunder will stop shaking me

at night 

lightning will stop striking the nerves I have been so desperately trying to paint over

The caps are scarred by my teeth

But the bottles shine like gems and I pretend that they are worth more than $10 a piece

I’m going through colors like toilet paper 

Like liquor bottles

Like sleepless nights

I’m looking for a color that will cure it all

I’m looking for a color that will bring me back to life