A Facebook quiz told me I am Ophelia.
Ophelia? Why not sharp-witted Beatrice
who fell for Benedick, a man who could handle, well, her.
Or, if I have to be in the maudlin and mad category,
couldn’t the quiz have awarded me Lady Macbeth?
Cruel, ruthless, yes, but determined nonetheless.
But Ophelia? It felt like a slap, to read the description.
Perhaps because I felt how accurate it was.
Ophelia, educated, serious, passionate.
Nose in a book and keeping much to herself.
Why resent this identification with Ophelia?
She who makes affliction turn to prettiness–
That’s what gets me. Affliction is not pretty.
Ophelia suicides. And that–
that is a little close to home.