my sister says
"you are just like mom."
she says that
i ignore people
who only want to apologize
people who only want
reconciliation.

well i guess
i should have gotten that down
by now
i am the one
who has been here
to take the ****
instead of in a fairyland
where all of this
doesn't exist
in another
state
I STAYED HERE.
don't EVER tell me
i am like her...

i don't talk to you
because i can't handle
anymore hurt
i will break.
and i know
that you would break too
if i let that happen
so really
by not responding,
sister...
i am
saving
you.

too much
alcohol
a tuna fish sandwich
and lettuce

is the recipe
to cure
the world

...or at least something

maybe

"it'll get easier"
they say
"holidays won't be so hard forever"
they say
"christmas will be better next year"
they say
"it won't hurt so much after a while"
they say
"mom'll come back someday"
they say
"she'll come to her senses"
"she'll realize her mistake"
"she'll miss her family"
"the kids won't forget about their big sister"
"she won't disappear again"
"you're gonna be fine"
"it'll all sort itself out"
"just be patient"
"it was your dad's fault"
"she was crazy"
"give it time"
they say.

they
(whoever they are)
do a lot
of talking
but not enough
to make today
feel alright
because i can't look anywhere
without seeing us down by the lake
with watermelon dripping down our chins
and scraggly weeds
growing inbetween the rocks

i miss that thing i used to have

f                    
                    a
            m


        i                 ­       
                                     l


                                                             ­              y

boys always try to tell me
"red, you don't know how to say
i love you"
and that i don't know
how to express it...
that i don't know
how to get it out
that i'm like a rock
they have to chisel
or a small child
they have to bribe
with sweet words
and
treats.
they always tell me
i am so
difficult.

but maybe
i am difficult
because i actually don't
love you
maybe i am a rock
that cannot be chiseled
because you simply don't know how
maybe
i would come to you
and let you hold me
if you weren't so
frightening...

...maybe a lot of things would happen
if i actually
did
love you.

these boys think
we are in love
and that one-way streets
don't exist
but they will discover otherwise
when they go down one
long enough

i have bitemarks on me
from you loving
too hard
scratches on you
where i didn't want to let go
but suddenly
the battle
is over
the breathless tangle
at an end
i forgot where i begin
and you did it
on purpose
the bitemarks
you left on me
are sore
and so is anything
that once was
in my chest
love makes me
bleed
love makes you
violent
love makes us
make
war

i wish i could be a bird
and accidentally eat uncooked rice
at someone's wedding
that i only attended
because there were so many interesting people
that wanted to
thoughtlessly **** me
just so i could die
and blame someone
other than myself
for it

you cannot give time anything
that time hasn't had
before
time owns everything
time has had everything
at least once
time has ravaged
everything
already
time has no need
of anything i have to offer
so time won't
help
me

i wonder if all my friends
can see me slowly dying
in front of them

but it seems the more despondent i get
the louder i am
in public
i am trying to drown out
the depression
but it likes to pounce
when i am alone
but i can't stand being around people
all the time
but
but
but
i am too tired
for any of this

my dad thinks there's something wrong with me
i never sleep
he is right
but i won't tell him he is
because he wouldn't know
what to do
i feel like a kitten in the ocean
and i am just too tired
to swim
but too small
to find

if i had a reason for every scar on my thigh
and ones that i could remember
i would write them all down
just to see
what hurt the most
what threw me over the edge
with no regrets
just to have a clear list
of what i can't handle
so i would maybe stop
creating the same problems
over
and
over
again
step one:
stop falling
in love

i'm tired of you.

i wish you'd let me sleep

i always try to say
if i loved you
i wouldn't leave
but sometimes i leave
even when i love you
i guess i don't know what i'm doing
but didn't i already know that?

i am a little in love
mind you...
only a LITTLE
with a deaf boy...

he says things with his eyes
you wouldn't believe
and touches me
like you would never understand
i don't even
understand
he is so sweet

i have never liked boys
who don't hear me out
who don't listen to me
it is
mind-boggling

words are
overrated

i have learned very well
how to be awake.
my best teacher
and the one that was most interested
in seeing me succeed
was
Nightmare
along with his mentor
Trauma
and their friend
D
i
v
o
r
c
e
.
.
.

...they have taught me well enough
to make sure
i will never sleep
again
they have helped Tired
unpack from the back of my mind
and move into the new space
that just became available
behind my eyes
they have really
been looking out for me
every single day
these last two years
and i really owe my success
to them.

Divorce,
Trauma,
and
Nightmare,
you are excellent
at what you
do
and i commend you
for your
diligence

it would be
wonderful
little sister
if you would explain to me
the inner most workings
of you and your
reality
that you have so carefully
painted
in your pictures
and in your face
you have always been
so good
at painting
i guess i shouldn't be
surprised
that you are also so good
at lying
little sister,
this is not my fault
and you
know it.

red
red
red,
they say.

why don't you get what we're trying to say?
why don't you try to do what we tell you?
why won't you talk to us?
why won't you listen
to reason?

honey
baby
darling
red?

because
the people that taught you to talk
are relative
to stone
walruses

because
i will not walk off a cliff
and willingly
smash against the harbor

because
you misplaced
your ears
and sewed them
onto
your brain

because
i wouldn't give you
a dog i didn't like
and you wouldn't take it,
anyway

because
what you define as reason
simply
isn't

people do not die.

they
fall through pavement
or slide under semi-trucks
or glide off bridges
into the soft embrace of water
into a place
in another state

and i don't ever see them
because they moved away
but they will be back
and maybe it's hard to keep in contact
long distance
relationships
****
but someday we'll hang out again
and it will be weird at first
because we will have changed
and
grown
but after a while
it will feel
just the same

swallowing
my first straight shot
of jack
letting the bitter taste
converge with the bitter
inside of me
but all it does
is make me cry...
god,
what a pathetic
drunk you are,
red

for two years
i have counted firsts.

first
time i
got hurt
drew blood
on accident
i
took a picture
and it was so innocent
but looking at the scars
on my arms
now
i cannot look at any cut
the same way

the first time i
cried
washed the dishes
put on a new shirt
slept
laughed
smiled
after mom left
i remember every one

i remember
sitting in the yellow room
of my sister's house
with the few things
i managed to grab
when mom kicked us out
listening
to the foreign sounds
of this new house
breathing
and making
a pretty little
asterisk
of red welts
on my forearm
with a
knife
for the
first time

tonight
was the first time
i played
ghost in the graveyard
since leaving
the first time
i ate a sugared
tomato
and i still remember
the first time
i learned
to not think
about
anything
that hurt
and now i wish
i could learn
again

today
God took one of my friends
instead of me.
and i will not
do what i wanted
now,
either.
because i cannot watch
one more family
feel this.

the first night of summer
and i am
trying to figure out
how to make my brain stop working
how to stop thinking
about all the things that have happened to me
that i can't control
i finally understand
people who get ****-faced
to feel better

crawl around on your floor
searching for clothes
that will change you
rearrange your hair
for the fortieth time
i've just realized
this is how i express
my social anxiety
i look at my face in the mirror
and all i want to do
is cut it
pretty sure this isn't
healthy

help
me

if i could stop existing by tomorrow
i would.
because though everyone thinks me
quite the social butterfly
being social actually gives ME butterflies
and not the good kind.
instead of going to
five graduation parties
this weekend
i would like to curl into a ball
and wish myself
out of this world
rather than worry about
every angle
of my body
every inflection
of my face
all day
i would rather not
try to make everyone smile
because i am too tired
to smile
myself.

sometimes i wish
i was one of Those Girls
with one of Those Bodies.

and i know that i'm
cute
and i
like me
i just
can't stop seeing
what model
attracts
i am ******
with sight

my tv
tells me
who to be
how to smile
how to be
and all the girls
that prance around
little *** toys
with insatiable hunger
and fake eyelashes
want to draw me in
so they can beat me
i am
pretty
but not
****
and ****
is what sells

i think love is a nice idea
in books
and
occasionally movies
but i do not
believe in it
i am too old.

hi
my name is
littlredwritinghood
and i am working a ****** job
so i can buy
an xbox this summer
so i can maybe smile
before august
what the hell
just trying to
up my chances

there are a lot of things
that are missing from my life
many of them
left badly
like a mother
brothers and sisters
and Daniel...

...i don't have words
to describe you,
Dan.
and i cannot
even write a poem
saying that you died
because to me
you haven't
some little part of me believes
that you are still here somewhere
and that is what keeps me
from breaking into little shards
that cut everything
they touch
you are somewhere
on your red motorcycle
with your bone-crushing hugs
still drinking and doing drugs
and smiling, smiling, smiling
even though
they say that is what killed you
i don't mind the ****.
i really don't.
i liked your heart
too much
to believe
you were evil.
you weren't.
and despite what some might say
i think you are in heaven
if only for the reason you were sent
to prison
ask jesus
to hug you for me, Dan
jesus knows
a righteous man.

these things
happen

they tell me

these things
happen

every day.

i reply,

what planet
are you ******* living on

i think i just
fell in love
with a boy named drew
on total accident
oops

tonight i
lost it a little
and it's not even night
it's morning
just to be clear

start over...

this MORNING
i
lost it a little
and i don't know
how to be better

i talked at a white shining light
on my computer
i vented
at a webcam
for thirty minutes
and i looked myself in the face
and tried to tell me it'd be alright
but the words choked me
and i couldn't
get them out

and im not trying to be an overdramatic
*******
a whiner
or a ****** kid
i just have abandonment issues
and cutting
and wantingtodietoomuch
issues
and i feel like everyone is biding their time
waiting
to leave me
and i feel like
i can't sew up the child-sized holes
in my dad's heart

and it's ******* father's day
and i can't even do that
i can't ******* replace
the nine other kids
that should be here
i can't make up for that
i am just
one person
one daughter
and i cannot make my daddy
better
and i
hate
it

happy
*******
father's day

i'm sitting in my underwear
petting my cat
eating chocolate
and writing poetry

why?

cuz *******
that's why

it is
12:21am
but it feels like
nine in the afternoon
i am perplexed by the moon
unwound by the clock
hmm.

i sit on the streetcorner of your mind
and every once in awhile
you drive by
throw money at me
say
hey baby
how about a
smile
and i smile for you
because im in the red
naturally

you do not mind
paying for my ******* smiles
and playing with the curvature of my lips
you do not mind
buying me for an hour
to smile at you

i am glad
that my crinkled eyes
are enough to make you feel better
i am glad
that you feel you are good enough to me
to demand a smile for free
sometimes

and only because
i want you to feel better
do i give them to you
even when the bank is looming
shaking all the outstanding debts
at me
that i really
owe myself

you do not mind
ravaging the smile
you paid for
you figure that you are allowed to ****
that which is yours
and i let you
because you
paid for it

my cat makes me happy
he's a ******* ******
i think that's why i like him

people don't make me happy
they're ******* weirdos too
but not the good kind

people make my brain hurt
they all want a piece of me
to make them smile

but i am not a glass figurine
or bubblegum
i'm not even collectable

people want to talk to me
too much
i guess i'm a good listener

or maybe not.
i have a lot of things that i want to say
but don't

i guess
that's why i write poems
to tell you the things that i would say

if you would let me speak
or even
breathe

maybe that's why
i write so many
"*******" poems

i wish
i could
talk

i like those
kisses that sit on your lips
like 90's kids
on a parkbench

i fall in love with people when i'm bored
and can't find anything better to do.
so darling,
when i say i love you
i don't actually.
just to make sure
we're clear

every time
i am too hurt to move
or say anything
to anyone
my cat comes
and lays down on my stomach
and purrs
and looks at me
and her slitted eyes
tell me
to be ok.

facebook messages
blinking at me
angrily
read me
they say
say something back
they scream
but i don't want to talk to
any of you
mostly because
i don't know
what to do
about anything
anymore
stop asking
me

there will always be people
who think better than you
who sing better
write better poems
why does this make me want to erase everything
and not simply
get better
or why not even
just be satisfied
and appreciate
that which i don't have
i am
selfish

when you have to take pills
to sleep
and your dad wonders
if you think too deep
at night
and your friends wonder
if you're talking to a creep
sometimes
in secret
and your mother doesn't wonder anything
because your mother too
doesn't sleep
littlered,
sleep
so you won't
be her

i lie on my bed in a big L
and try to think about
what made me
me
stare my vanity
in the face
realize
that years
of precision makeup
layered on
like the rings on the inside
of a tree
are what made my personality
and that the varying degrees of ******
that i look like each day
dictate
my happiness
and that i am sick of
humans

if you do anything
four thousand times over
it will start to get
boring

like
***

but what about
breathing?

i don't know what to do
he wants me
i want him
too
but
is it right
or
good
for both of us
this kinda love
isn't just something
to play with
*******
is serious
and no one takes it that way
anymore
i don't need one more thing
to be attached to
ughhh

this boy
is so very muscular
and handsome
and sweet
and so very
african
he thinks
jesus brought us together
and he likes my body
just the way it is
he doesn't try to
change anything
about me
my dad would hate him
not because dad's racist
but just because he thinks black men
are rapists
(maybe that DOES make him racist...?)
but then again
dad hates all boys
that like his daughters
i don't know
i feel happy
but too many things
make me smile
i can never be sure
if they're worth something

there is this boy
and he is
very black
and very muscular
and
he could easily
overpower me
and he thinks my
legs
are
nice
and my dad would
crap his pants
if he ever saw him near me
because dad is still scared
of black people

there is this boy
he is very white
and a little dorky
but i like the way
his face
makes funny eyebrow smiles
he never
leaves
me
alone
and dad wouldn't care
if he was with me
because this boy is too scared
to do
anything

there is this boy
that is really more like a man
and he drives a jeep
and fishes a lot
and takes pictures
and draws on his ipad
and he's kind of a ****
but he told me i'm spunky
and that i make him smile
and that he
likes me
i was glad
to make him
smile
dad would probably
be
his best
friend

there is this boy
who i thought was really big on jesus
but it turns out he wanted to take me into a walk in freezer
pour chocolate on me
and lick it off
i liked him because i thought he was nice
but he wanted me
to
lick
his
fingers
and other things
too
i said
no
dad would
shoot him

there is this boy
that plays the trumpet
and has a receding hairline
but he's only like
twenty two
and he
likes to find my face
and smile at me
because he wants to know
if i'll smile
back
he wanted to give me
a massage
and a long hug
i wish he would
tell me
he liked me
so maybe we could be
together
dad would
think he was
the marrying type

there is this boy
who likes to tell me what he's wearing
which is usually silky underwear
blue ones
red ones
sometimes
none
the first night i knew him
he sent me a picture
of his ***
it was really
white
he wants to
draw a bath for me
and watch me
in the bubbles
he tells me
i can touch him
anywhere
i want
he'll touch me
too
dad would skin him
after
he shot him

there is this boy
who is high
or drunk
24/7
he makes me watch awful scary movies
he is silly
playful
he
loves
me
but he is in
california
and he only loves me
as a friend
he wants a blonde
not a redhead
and that is ok
we would be too much for this world
if we were together
anyway
dad would
hate
him

i will give you little paper hearts
and hope they'll make you feel better
a million of them
dropping from the sky
little love bombs
that float
like ash

i will give you hand grenades
of happiness
so you can throw them at the people around you
and make the life you live with them
better

i will give you a special one
for you to pull the pin
but stand there and hold it
until it releases
in an explosion
of peace

i will give you heart-felt bullets
to shoot into your vital organs
and anyone else's
you see fit
in order to penetrate
their crusty
bent
rusted
shells
and make them
feel
again

i will give you
and endless supply
of tasers
to wake us all
up
to love

i will give you
bombs
lots of them
but you must promise
to set them off

we must gauge how much we like a boy.
do you like him enough to spend three hours
trying on clothes
and tossing them aside
finding some tiny flaw
in every
neckline
do you like him enough
to have nothing but water
for a week
just to tempt him to explore
your craggy peaks
do you want him enough
to cut your wrists
in anxiety
an hour before
you'll see him
do you like him enough
do you?


do
                                        

                                                           you?

you've got eyes
that cut diamonds
and not in a good way
because that means
you can cut through some super tough ****
including me
and my
leather heart
don't look
at me
it
hurts

dear red,
you are becoming quite excellent
at discovering human's motives
not that they are that hard to uncover...
every man
is looking for ***
despite the route he takes
through cooing
or
beating
and every woman
is looking for
something
to make her smile
for a minute
because we want to be sad
afterwards
so we can
cash in on that
sympathy
gift card
ultimately,
we are
selfish
pieces of ****
and this is why
i want so badly
to believe
in god