ORIGIN: Peacocks are pretty and fish bite hooks. Most of the tail was already there, and an ugly mermaid would crave nothing more desperately than beauty.
There was a time when I used to be peacock green with envy. I was an ugly mermaid intent on shipwrecking everyone around me. Night had to fall on all the colors that reminded me of who I wasn’t. But there’s something called bioluminescence in the deep sea, and out of sight didn’t lead on to out of mind. That’s when I realized that I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want envy burnt into my retina, denying everything else.
When I was a fingerling, I wished I had a peacock tail I could spread out between me and the world. Beauty is a weapon, and I have always wanted to feel safe. Don’t believe everything you hear, mermaids are adopted out to dry land. The sea has no place in her heart for us. If I had been washed ashore, I could have read remorse between the lines. But I had to walk my fish tail to shreds till it became a pair of legs. I bit down on my tears and told myself that peacocks drag their tail on the ground. Anything is better than being an ugly thing in the eyes of someone who should have loved me.
Sea foam taught me that everything fades away. I would have liked nothing more than to live my life on the crest of a wave. I couldn’t have cared less about peacock tail feathers. I only had eyes for the ocean blue crest on their head. It seemed to be promising me forever and I was willing to delude myself. Coral reefs are less than 1% of the ocean, but that colorful lie children are told to not fear the dark was all I knew. It hurt. I didn’t want to believe that I would grow up to be part of this ugliness of our own making.
There are no mirrors in the sea. Silvery fish scales are no good. I never stood a chance. The first image of myself I put together was already distorted. Nobody breathed a word. I came up with the word ugly all on my own. But that’s not where my anger stems from. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that a peacock gave me the evil eye. I hate iridescence. I wasn’t born to be a wave. I want to embrace my ugliness, but the colors keep changing. I don’t need anyone’s pity. What I need is a steady presence in my life. I wish those glimpses of beauty would just shimmer out of existence.
There’s no fishbone in my throat. I’ve always sung from the bottom of my heart. But you won’t see any tears welling in my eyes because the Sea doesn’t care about my two cents. Unwanted. Ugly. That’s how I feel. I wish I could grab the Sea by the throat, but waves break on their own. That’s the salt in my wound. The hollow under my nails is getting bigger by the day. Mr. Peacock, please throw me a lifeline. I don’t need all eyes on me. A pair of feathers will do. My song deserves to be rooted in beauty.
Handwriting spills secrets, but I am a mermaid. I don’t put words on paper, I put them on air. Not even lemon would reveal my ugliness. I remember my first shipwreck. My fear of iridescence. I spread out my song, but my true colors didn’t show. Such a beautiful song.
I hate fish scales. I want peacock feathers, something I can spread out. The sea makes me feel incorporeal. I am a mermaid, not a ghost white wave! Displacing water isn’t enough. I want to carve out a place for myself, something that isn’t easily filled. I want to sink my fingers deeper than the sun and paint my nails red. Forget iridescence. Forget sadness and hope. Anger is the way to go. I will scream till my throat bleeds. A new cluster of red bubbles every time the sea ghosts me.
I dreamed that I was strangling a peacock. I could feel its colors pulsing under my hands. I put it all on blue, hoping to wake up in the sea I knew, but the flatline was green. When I opened my eyes, I had turned into an ugly mermaid. Had I known that nothing kills beauty more mercilessly than envy, I would have kept my eyes glued to the mirror.