She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they would help her have better dreams. And if she couldn’t sleep, she could just read them and be reminded of something so stunningly beautiful that her heart would swell and her bones would sigh and for just a second, the world would not seem like it was going to crush her.
You’re drunk in a bathtub
with a red cup full of Birthday Cake flavored vodka
wearing a headdress
made of neon Dollar Store chicken feathers.
You’re half naked in a grassy field
with drugstore lipstick smeared under your eyes
and wearing moccasins from Urban Outfitters.
You can’t wait for Coachella
so you can finally smoke a peace pipe in a tepee
and find your Spirit Animal.
You think Native American culture is so beautiful
and clumsily show it with your
hashtags on tumblr and Instagram.
But when actual Indigenous people tell you that
Gypsy, Squaw and Red Injun are all racist slurs
Headdresses are sacred
and war paint on your white face is insulting
“I’m just appreciating your beautiful culture!
I’m 1/16th Cherokee.”
Ignoring the fact that running around
naked in the woods on shrooms
will not connect you with any tribe
and that your great great great great grandmother
along with the rest of the Cherokee people
never wore headdresses.
February 24th 2014, 9:30pm