"hello.
i'm a little nervous,
sorry."
"whenever you are ready."
"okay."
i think i belong.
i feel it in my bones and i know that
i was meant to be around people.
i fall in love with people everyday,
god,
so please, if you could let me
make a few new friends?
please, if you would consider me?
please let me inside.
and, okay, i know,
on earth,
i had that whole thing where i
kissed girls because it felt nice
but
i was never even a girl, turns out,
so please let me inside.
my skin, god, it's breaking like a china doll
who has been dropped from the highest point
on the display shelf.
my skin, god, is it because i was not pretty?
like the dolls?
was that an unfair comparison?
is it because my mami never read me to sleep?
is it because my mami was never there when
i fell asleep?
please, god, let me sleep in your kingdom.
please let me inside.
i know, god, that i would have liked
your stories more if it featured more
body horror and balloons.
poetry and prose, i swear, god, were all i needed on earth.
and of course,
people.
i was always connected to them, god,
and i feel like they must meet me.
they must know the voice they heard
in the shuffling of the cards.
so please let me inside.
"how was that?
do you think i will be considered
for the part?"
"you were horrible."
"okay."
— my audition for heaven.