❤*•.¸♥ 𝓜𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓪 ♥¸.•*❤
Carly Jane Dagen
I am a pretty girl, probably
but not pretty enough
to justify my behavior
not pretty enough
to float around the room unarmed
disarming
I don’t hate you, Melinda
I like you so much, really
or I like the idea of you, Melinda
imagining you at coffee shops
never reaching for your purse
your smile is brighter
than the shine of any Amex
I probably love you, Melinda
I’m not sure
if I want to wake next to you, or
if I’m afraid
any man I cast eyes at
and brought home
would leave me
to wake next to you
and so,
I hate you, Melinda
because I was born to fear
a dark street alone with any man
a lover, friend, or stranger
but they don’t teach girls
how to love other girls
that they are afraid of
❧◦°˚𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼˚°◦☙
Carly Jane Dagen
if I squeeze every pore on my face, I’ll be beautiful tomorrow
and if the clock strikes 11:53 while I am still looking at it, I won’t die in the next 7 months
if I don’t kiss anyone this year, I’ll make enough money to not worry anymore
and if the trees in the park are still dark green rather than fading brown, I’ll get married someday
but if they’re brown even a little, no one will fall in love with me ever again
and I know it because they know it
if I hold the black obsidian rock in my palm that a girl gave me in college
(because she felt bad that I was always so nervous, even though she found me sort of irritating)
someone important will call me today with good news and if not, with very bad news
and if I smile at 5 people on the train, I will arrive safely to my destination and so will my friends
if the director doesn’t respond to my email within 3 and a half hours, it means I’m the ugliest person
he’s ever seen
and if my friend texts me about the party versus just expecting me to be there,
she doesn’t hate me
if he likes all my pictures in a row without missing any, he wants to be with me and just can’t say it to my face
and if I can blink 7 times in 7 seconds, maybe I’m a god after all
and if I can’t, maybe I’m even less than mortal
subhuman
I am walking in the straightest line I can in the park because that will mean I will get
to my appointment on time
if I don’t buy the $9 latte but I buy the $5 iced coffee, I am a good person
if I get a kiss on the cheek rather than a hug from my gay neighbor
I am actually his favorite neighbor
but if he doesn’t also do it the next time he sees me it means my passing by in the hallway
is secretly absolutely nauseating
if I pause my pushups and go on my phone for a few minutes I will get fat, even if I finish them
if I wash all the street city filth off my hands in the shower and also clean under my nails
someday I’ll be admired and understood
if the clouds look like cotton candy and not streaks of test paint on a new plaster wall
today will be okay
tomorrow will be okay only if there is lightning
Carly Jane Dagen is an-up-and coming, multi-hyphenate artist (just like everyone else here) and lifelong city girl (a lie). Hailing from Hoffman Estates, Illinois, the suburban kingdom of car dealerships and mattress stores, Carly has been writing since she could read. Which was at 8 years old, as she previously refused to learn how to read. However, as soon as Carly finally took her big mouth to pen and paper, she was busy composing lyrics and rhyming poems, the latter of which she foolishly believed she invented at the time as “songs that you speak instead of sing”. That was dumb. Thereafter, Carly fell in unrequited love with writing, publishing sonnets in small literary magazines and eventually earning an English degree. She then started a corporate writing career in Chicago before moving to NYC in October 2023, where she’s since become a frequent flyer in the infamous Dimes Square literary circle. There, she posts and performs her free-verse, melancholic, stream-of-consciousness poems under the pen-name CJD. These past few paragraphs have been pretentious and nauseating. Carly plans to release a book of poetry and a musical EP in 2025.