Politics and Invisibility

I'm invincible, you fools.

Because me and JFK have a secret handshake. And he always loved me more than Jackie and Marilyn combined.

You can't stop me. I'm tired of letting you decide with one glance or one word or one sigh whether I go or whether I stay.

I'm done caring about what you think of me.

All I care about is being invincible.

Because I am all the girl with the hair in front of her eyes. I'm the stick skinny models on the floor of the motel bathrooms. I'm the drug addicts. I'm the first lady. Because as long as you can't see my eyes you can't see me. And as far as I'm concerned, that makes me invincible.

Because you can't stab a whisper.
And you can't strangle a poltergeist.


Look at me. Not into my eyes. Focus on the shape of my lips and the shade of my blushing cheeks. Look at me. Tell me what color my fingernails are and label me as "indie" if you must.
Stare all you want, I'm invincible.

I've been on the cover of LIFE magazine at least twice. And even then I always closed my eyes.

And my pride has nothing to do with me. 
It lives inside me as a guest. 20 bucks a night. Continental breakfast. Take it if you  must, it's not what makes me invincible. 

My pride is where you find the blog comments and how good I am at lazer-tag. This is who I am to the football players and to the Science teachers. None of you matter to me when I can live forever.

And JFK and I, we would lay in the oval office. And we put the "Do Not Disturb" sign we stole from a Best Western on the door. And we never once talked about politics.





Because I'm invincible, you fools.





My fellow Americans.
Esther.