Contact Lens Death Stare
(listen to the poem, read by Emily Windver)
With these contact lenses, you will no longer strain your eyeballs when you roll your eyes, which yes, is a symptom of fibromyalgia. Put one lens in each eye and soon “Angry Unresting Bitch Face” will be revealed. Everyone will leave you the fuck alone.
You’ll be able to bear comments such as: “You look so comfy.” “She gets curb service.” “Are you going to be giving massages with that table?” “You have so much courage to show your face here.” “You’re lucky that you’ve got it made.” “I’m praying for you.” “God has a reason.” “God chose you.” “If I were you I’d kill myself.”
For a brief moment, everyone will understand your plight and answer your death stare with silent compassion. Once your contacts detect the compassion, they will melt into tears that stream down your thick skin.
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be a speech-language pathologist. Maybe you were just meant to inspire people.”
Editor’s Note: Experience some of Tamara Hattis’s fiction in this issue of Wordgathering.
About the Author
Tamara Hattis is a poet and collage artist. Her art and poetry have previously been published in The Sand Canyon Review, Badlands Review, Ghost Town Literary Magazine, The Deaf Poets Society, and Incandescent Mind: Editions 2 and 3 by Sadie Girl Press and Cholla Needles Magazine, issues 15, 18, and 20. Her debut full-length book, Colors of My Pain, is now available on Amazon.com.