Craigslist Personals
w4m: Looking for a pseudointellectual narcissist who will always one-up or belittle me when it comes to anything culture-related. Must tell me my mental illness is my fault because I don’t exercise, and explain that medication is wrong. Cannot be a doctor, mentally ill himself or empathetic.
w4m: Looking for a burnt-out, jobless musician who played SXSW once ten years ago and thinks that still means something. Must sing to me and show me his artistically crafted self-harm marks to gain my affection and sympathy, and after that, ignore me or tell me he has “way too much going on.”
w4m: Looking for an aspiring white actor who complains there aren’t enough roles for him because his Italian skin tone casts him as a mobster and never the common Midwestern. Must ask if I’m a feminist and play devil’s advocate, saying women are just biologically crazier, and still expect me to sleep with him.
Nothing In Between
I’m smart and cute and full of great ideas
I can do it all
I’m incompetent and will never be as smart or witty or beautiful as her and her and her and her and her
I’m fucking awful
Everything is coming together and I can’t wait!!!!!
I’m young and have so many years to make anything happen
I’m past my prime and may have early onset dementia because nothing makes sense
I’ll be dead before I’m dead because I won’t know what the hell anything is anymore
I’m talking a mile a minute and can’t wait to go out and drink and smoke half a pack of cigarettes in two hours
I’ll be up all night hanging out and feel great the next day
I haven’t left my bed in 25 hours and don’t plan on it
Maybe these thick comforters will smother me out of my misery :~)
I’m a goddess and you better goddamn respect me
Because everybody loves me
I’m a pathetic child who has no real understanding of the world or anything ever
Everyone can see through my shit
Today
I love myself
Today
I hate myself
Typical
Maybe one day, I’ll be gray
like a happy, slick, glistening baby dolphin
who doesn’t give a damn
Sisyphean Tears
Dehydrating my fragile
and already incredibly dehydrated body
one salty drop at a time
I’m barely there, evaporating
Each tear a small, glistening Sisyphean boulder
An endless task
A futile task
A punishment
Undeserved, but one I’ve chosen to take on
for You,
undeserving
But with each push of the boulder
I develop droplets of something
that feel like strength
but also exhaustion
And I’ll keep doing it
Not because I’m a
self-hating masochist
Oh wait, maybe because
I am
but just a little 😉
Deleted
When you left
I made a 5-page Word doc list
of everything Wrong with You
of how shitty and terrible you are
Fuck You
I read it to myself every day
and promised I wouldn’t forget
but then
one day
I deleted it
because deep down, I wanted to forget
but can trauma ever really be deleted?
Craigslist Personals II
w4m: Looking for a white guy who has lived in South Korea and some other Asian countries for a while and singles me out because I’m Chinese. Must tell me he doesn’t have an Asian fetish but reveal he doesn’t date white women or blondes, especially, because they remind him of his mother.
w4m: Looking for a guy whose father built some of the set of “Blade Runner” and makes that very known. He, on the other hand, builds custom, handmade guitars and also makes that very known. Must ask me if he can use his sex toy on me and I’ll say no, because that’s not sanitary, and he’ll tell me he boiled it earlier so it’s clean.
w4m: Looking for a privileged semi-bro who drives a flashy brand new Audi. He’ll tell me “my parents are physicians and I’ll soon be a lawyer.” Must start playing Maroon 5 out of nowhere and tell me that they’re the best band of our generation, and disregard my subsequent discomfort.
When You Came Back
When you came back
I couldn’t tell if you loved me
I was afraid of decaying
like the produce I forget in my fridge
all the damn time
that become rotten and withered
So my body did what it does best
Protecting me as if a swarm of
life-sized bugs
Were after me
We all know how much I hate bugs
Unless they’re dead and in the display cases
at Necromance on Melrose Ave. in Hollywood
near where I once lived
But it was just you
Or just me, thinking it was You
My heartbeat was visceral
Pounding and uneven, a broken staccato
That tight knot in my gut
A wet towel being wrung in my softest, fleshiest bits
until I bleed dry
I would wake up every morning
Wondering if today would be the day
That the fogginess would disappear
That words would regain their meaning
That my voice would return
Along with my thoughts; the ones that made sense
That I wouldn’t be a ghost of a shell of a person
Going through the motions of life
Both eternally sad and unfeeling at the same time
That my normally insatiable appetite would return
That I could look you in the eye
That I could look myself in my eye
And remember who I was
and maybe find out who I am
with or without you
Xanax
I did it for you
because you anxiety-shamed me
and because I needed help
Truly
A sweet, sweet, warm fuzziness washes over me
when I take 5 and a swig of whiskey
like a blanket of alpaca fur and glitter and what Love is meant to feel like
and I sleep
without nightmares
but sometimes
I’m twitching
c a n ’ t c o n c e n t r a t e
Oops, passed out by accident
Headache
Headache
Headache
Twitch
Racing anxiety-fueled nightmares
zero focus
F u c k
I should’ve known
but I don’t even care
because I just got a refill :~)
Prayer Candle
We found a mysterious prayer candle in the house
and lit it for someone every time we went out for a smoke
Once for you
Once for me
Once for my sister who was in LA
Once for Steve Buscemi
Once for Věra Chytilová
Once, unbeknownst to me, for the “Basketball Gods”
You wanted The Jazz to win
The night after the night I found out
I smashed that prayer candle into a thousand pieces
along with a small plant pot, a larger plant pot
and something else, I forget
Oh, and my fragile, pathetic hope
My stupid optimism and stupider trust
Shattered into enough pieces to slice
everyone in Ohio apart
That’s around 12 million people
and
even 12 million prayer candles couldn’t heal
me at the time
or heal you
I don’t know who had it worse
You, with the disease
Or me, the one who loved you
Craigslist Personals: White Male Edition
m4w: Looking for an “interesting” albeit insecure mentally ill female who will simultaneously intrigue and annoy me. Must have an anxiety disorder coupled with a personality disorder (eating disorder a plus), stemmed from deep-seated emotional abuse, that I (a) can’t handle and (b) will inevitably worsen.
m4w: Looking for a strong and overt feminist who I can still manage to talk over or silence. Must be willing to let me constantly complain about how patriarchy hurts MEN too. Must also let me carry out her rape fantasies, because all feminists have those deep down, right?
m4w: Looking for a woman I can have pseudo-meaningful sex with again and again. Must be willing to let me have my way with her because she cares and wants to placate me at any expense. Must not hint at a serious relationship, even though I know she (not so) secretly wants one.
When You Came Back Part II
You were far away, fading into a space of post-existence
Nothingness
Much like the pre-existence you’ll never remember
I hit your face again, hard
bits of mascara burning my red, wet eyes
smudges of black and gray fingerpaint
over the already dark bags of my eyes
You couldn’t hear me
The shade of blue on the tips of your fingers and lips
would’ve been aesthetically pleasing if on a canvas
or a Home Depot color swatch
You were gasping for air both desperately
and faintly
You didn’t even know
“Ma’am, you’ll need to step out of the room”
I was in hysterics, a blur of racing thoughts
But you came back just in time
And then relief washed over me, the kind you get after sickness
like vomiting up all the liquor and pills and Taco Bell from the night before
They took you away for a few hours
Have you ever seen someone die?
I never thought I would until I did
And if it wasn’t for all the good, calming drugs I was on
I may have died too
But you came back that night
Now, things aren’t easy, but they never are
Existence is hard, and things are never totally okay
And that’s okay
It felt like religion
You died, and you may not know it, but you were reborn
And maybe it was all supposed to happen
Namesake
I’m angry my name isn’t April
It’s cute
I was born in April
“A month… can’t be a name,” my mother said
when my dad suggested it
After weeks of perusing one baby name book after another
my mother settled on ‘Belinda’
In whatever edition of whatever baby book she had found
Belinda meant ‘white, pure and beautiful…’
And from the moment I was aware of my name
I despised it
I couldn’t speak English growing up
My name was long and different
I was already different enough
I wanted to be “Jess” – J E S S or “Sara” – S A R A
Anything but B E L I N D A
“I was born in Indiana”
“Oh, INDIA?”
I wanted to be white but
I could never be white or pure
Nor did I ever think I was beautiful
Growing up, I was encompassed by a sort of darkness
A troubled mind and fraught relationships
Anxiety manifested into destructive compulsions
When I would stick my fingers down my throat to check for cancer
that wasn’t there
and then do the same to my little sister, who always gagged
I knew there was something wrong
A P R I L
I wanted to be the first rays of sun after rain
Because deep down, I hated my darkness
I wanted to be the embodiment of rebirth
Because a part of me yearned to start over
I wanted to be fresh, blossoming life
Because I had so often idealized yet feared death
On my birthday last year
I woke up to darkness
But then, moments later
received a text from my dad
That read:
“On the day you were born
There was a light snow
It was April; how could it be?
Your mother and I thought you were ‘god sent’”
I’m not religious
But, for the first time, ‘Belinda’ made just a bit of sense
But fuck being white, pure and beautiful
There’s no such thing
I just want to be a furry bat covered in dirt
and the blood of my enemies
Old Shirts
I always feel weird about putting on old t-shirts
Especially ones with dumb band logos
or something
It makes me feel as if slipping on the shirt
will make me slip back in time
into the person I used to be
when I bought those shirts
And I’ve never liked myself
Until maybe recently
Maybe, being the key word
I think I’ll burn those shirts
Old Habits Die Hard
You told me I was a glutton for punishment
And you are right
In more ways than you think
Sensitive
Since I was a little girl
My feelings have always been hurt
by those around me,
some near and dear
some enemies
But I didn’t quite know it
Thinking back, I’m not sure
which was crueler
If you call me sensitive one more time
I will hurt you
and prove that cruelty breeds cruelty
but I don’t want to do that
because I’m not cruel, I’m soft
Lonely
She texted me if she gets hugged
she will be alright
Humans long for physical affection
most living things do
When I don’t pet my bunnies
I feel like a bad bun mom
but they are a bonded pair
and have each other
and sometimes preen to Patsy Cline
on balmy weekend afternoons
with my windows open
c o o l breezes
“I’m lonely too,” I said
in my queen sized bed
I think of the person I love
a few rooms over, rarely present
“I’ve been lonelier in this relationship
than when I’ve been single”
and she cried for me
I thought the bunnies were
me and him
but they were
me and her
my sister
who feels me as deeply as I feel her
when I fail to connect to
most those around me
especially
my own mother
who may have loved me a lot
but made me feel like
The Loneliest Child On Earth
The Break Up
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
He never loved you
Maybe if I say it enough
I’ll come to terms with it
I would
I told him I would die for him
and he said he would do the same for me
but said that wasn’t saying much
because he’d die for anyone
Skittles
I heard that at some Floridian bar
there is a cocktail called the
Trayvon Martin
laced with skittles and pixie dust
or some shit
my stomach is still turning
the other day outside of Petsmart
a young black man
sold my sister and me some candy
it was for school, he said
a dollar a piece
she reached into the bag
and pulled out skittles
one pack sweet, one pack sour
and with each skittle I ate
both sweet and sour
I thought of his face
26 and on Tinder
Kill me now
Bunny Scars
I’ve had my bunnies for a month now
They both still flinch when I approach
bite when I caress them
their pupils dilate
I got them at a cold, dark shelter
where they were behind metal bars
and slept to the sound of barking dogs
Rabbits are prey animal
their sole existence is to be hunted
as a defense mechanism some die
instantly when under extreme distress
before they are torn to shreds
I read that rabbits
don’t have long memory spans
they may not remember cuddling with me
or the joys of munching a baby carrot
but trauma and abuse
they don’t forget
and it’s in their eyes
isn’t it in all of ours, too?
Craigslist Personals III: Lost Boy
Looking for the boy of my dreams
Must be tall, dark-featured, charming,
smart, funny, talented, a musician,
beautiful and filled with potential
But must also be a self-loathing junkie
A Lost Boy
who never had a single lesson on ethics
and deceives himself to absolve himself
of accountability
because he can get away with anything
with his good looks and charm
and innocent white boy demeanor
but there is pain in there somewhere
deep, mostly hidden
They say drug addiction is a disease
and it is
the worst kind
because it affects not only its victims
but all those around them
especially the ones who love them most
and a year of loving an addict
doesn’t mean they give a shit about you
especially once you catch on
The more you help the more they resent
but you don’t care
You still love them and
forgive the pain they cause
because you’re lost too
Back and Forth
I go from feeling everything at once
to nothing
I prefer the latter
You showed me The Clean
they sing,
“Sometimes I just feel too much
and I don’t want to feel at all”
Heaven
A friend told me that heaven, to him, is one moment
Exactly one moment in your life
on repeat for eternity
When I walked in on you staring at the bunnies
I just brought home
I saw the gleam in your eyes
You were always a child at heart
That’s what I liked about you
but also what I hated
I thought that moment would be my heaven
Even so
Everything after that has been hell
The Unfilial Son
Dad,
unlike me
you never cry
even when you watched your father die
And then watched him be put into the ground
You told me you held onto a twig
You were squeezing it so hard that it broke skin
and you bled
and that is how you’ve coped
You’ve held on to that twig all your life
As a daughter of a communist
turned capitalist
I both hurt for you
because of how destructive Mao’s regime was
and am slightly envious
because of how ideologically
attractive communism is
But it had sons turning against mothers
siblings turning against siblings
fathers turning against sons
until there was enough bloodshed
to make the state bleed R E D
I’ll never know my grandfather
who died in a concentration camp
when my dad was ten
He loved his father
but was ashamed
that’s what propaganda does
And while he felt more disgrace than sadness
the real unfilial thing he did
was with his caretaker
an elderly woman who loved him
enough to compensate for the love of
both of his estranged parents a hundred, thousand times over
The last time he saw her
She asked him to buy her some fresh fruit at the market
She was handicapped and couldn’t leave the house
My father, an unwavering communist, had to go to a meeting, he said
He denied her
And that memory, and perhaps that memory alone
brings him to tears
Featured Image Credit: Fallon Alyssai
Belinda Cai is a baby poet and musician with a background in writing/multimedia journalism. She works as a program director for a local radio start up. Belinda is a new bunny mom, enjoys lavender, needs to buy more zany socks and wishes her hair would bleach more easily so she could do some weird shit to it. https://belindacai.com/
