the ocean is very deep
but i am very shallow
step on me
and i expand
to accommodate you
until i am
gone
why
does this always
happen to me

if i could see
what is hurting me
i'd tell it to stop
for the love of
god

i'm sorry, my
car broke down
cat puked
got sick
i puked
broke some appendage
that is necessary
for writing
tripped on a saw
hugged the wrong friend
got laryngitis
can't talk
got *****
by a tv show
all night
my dad's a hippie
sorry
couldn't make it
to class

time to close the knife
let it take your life
another night
you have to do
what is right
for everyone else
you'll be
fine

pick your lips up
arrange them into
a smile
draw ruby-red pictures
on your thighs
where no one can see them

scrape all the ****
out from under your bed
try to find
your knife
try to feel
better
four cuts
later

i expected everyone to **** me over
except you
one down
7 billion to go

thanks.

i was walking
humming that song
about neapolitan dreams
looking at all the dried worms
on the hot sidewalk.
the rain makes them run away
from their homes
trying not to drown
but then the sun
comes
and shrivels them up:
little broken
flat
squiggles
on the sidewalk
what a *****
trick...
suddenly
i found
one that was barely
alive
struggling
trying to dig into
the scorching cement
i don't even like worms
i think they're gross
but i picked him up
put him in the dirt
covered him with some grass
to protect him from the sun
because i know how it feels
to be far from home
trying to get away
from a frightening
place

i fell in love
with a split end boy
every time i thought i had him
figured out
he'd run the other
way
i tried to catch him
pinpoint him
put him back
together
but he'd just
change direction
again
so i
cut him off

you're like
something i like....
....like
a cat
or....ice cream
but a cat that's flat in the road
and ice cream that's fallen on the floor
i like you,
but i wouldn't
like....
keep you

some people you just can't please
they're little toddler adults
and you're a melting popsicle...
they could eat six of you
and never be full,
toss you aside
when they get bored.
little melting popsicle,



run



                            away

eyes shining
with casualty numbers
and flashes of
bombs exploding
i can't stop watching them
replay it over and over
i'm waiting to
feel something
i am so
numb
to loss...
it's frightening

the world blows up
once again
facebook
twitter
tv
poetry
people....
....people who gave up on prayer
decades ago
have returned
suddenly
i hope all this
didn't just happen
to teach us how to pray
again

we had a real conversation for once
about your ptsd
you told me
you remember 100%
every guy you ever killed
and you went to iraq...
you told me
stories
what it was like
when you got back...
about waking up from a night terror
slashing your pillows
with a knife
about another guy
who almost strangled
his wife
you told me
all the reasons
you can't sleep
i wanted
to lay my head on your chest
but i
didn't

i remember every carefully constructed smile
that i composed for you
a melody
that i prayed
would snag you.
my eyes crinkled
into rainbow smiles
all their own
plump lips shaped
perfectly
dimples placed
with practice
just in the right spot.
you told me
over and over
"don't look at me like that"
jokingly
"you're destroying me"
you'd say
as you laughed
and smiled back
into mine
i wish i had known then
that every carefully composed smile
was wasted on you
you took my smile
and smiled it at a hundred other girls
you not only stole everything
that had ever made me smile
but you took my lips, too
no more
smiles

everyone sings about
talks about
preaches about
having a ***** past
no one tells you what to do
with a ***** coin
of a future
that erodes in your pocket
silently
but heavily

my blood boils
these days
i've reached
my breaking point
at any given moment
i'm ready to tear into someone
i am sick
of everything
being unfair
of being ****** over
by everyone
the family court
the law
my mom...
i'm done with it.
i'm tired of my little sister
advocating
for that *****
i will not
put up with it.
this ends
along with
my silence
i am a silent shout
a silent poem
a silent rage
no more
i cannot
be contained
**YOU WILL HEAR
WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.

gather all the evidence
sort out all the papers
you're gonna get it right
this time
no arguing
she can't argue
with the truth
set all the papers out
where you can see them easily
get your phone
dial
her number
call her
at your old home
(the battlefield)

FIGHT.

she cannot resist
she cannot defeat
what is right
forever.

if you don't have family
you don't have anything
i don't have
anything

i am one big
tangle
of nerves
feeling everything
without perception
rolling through the halls
picking up all the trash
left around
experiencing
incorporating
them
all the same
frazzled
ragged
i TOLD YOU
i can't talk about this
before school
i can't be MORE stressed
i can't
handle it
but you can't help it
god
why
are you
doing
this to me

lists of
everything
inked on paper
remind you to do
all the things
you shouldn't have to
if i didn't have
kind of the *******
family situation
ever
there would be SO many things
i wouldn't have to think about
like getting kicked out of this house
we don't own
mom killing me
again
so much for
mother hens
dad going to jail
for not paying child support
like, what the **** are we supposed to do
WE CAN'T PAY
why am i so responsible
for all of this...
rhyme schemes can go to hell

help.

start your morning off
with a nice phone call
that consists
of someone you love
yelling at you
a lot.
that always helps you
get to class
on time

i remember telling a girl
(maybe
asking her)
"what is there
besides
love?"
i guess there's
mockery

it takes two seconds
of chit chat
for me to get down
to why i am so angry
with you.
how could you leave me
all summer,
sister.
all the **** that we've been through
these two years...
isn't my family
divided
separated
scattered
enough?
everyone leaves.
it's easier
to just
leave
i want to leave...
but i must be the one that stays
because no one else will.
don't yell at me
for not applying to colleges
for sitting
staring
at the ceiling
slicing
my arms open
not eating
passing out
hitting my head
screaming
don't yell at me
for things you don't understand,
sister.
maybe
if i was better
if i was happier
nicer
...better...
you would want to stay here
with me.
but i guess i messed it up
just like i messed up with mom
i thought i was so good at
giving people
what they want
i never know what i want...
maybe that's the problem

it is so much easier
to sit here
and pretend
i am the erratic
pattern
on this chair
rather than be
the weird
cat-eared
gingerbread cookie
that i am.

my cat ate
my bestfriend's
hair-bow
the one she
let me borrow
apparently
sorry
isn't good enough

i tired of this
so quickly
where did i go
all semester?
i don't think i've been here
at all
ask my gpa...
he'll agree.

i'm thinking about
how long
i need
to be gone
measure
analyze
depart

politically correct?
**** that.
we all know
that not a single one of us
is "pc"
in our own heads
who are we kidding?
who the **** do politics think they are
anyway
to correct
me
pretty sure we're
the ones who should be keeping
politics
in line

today i stole
a glory-of-the-snow
from someone's
front yard
put it to my nose
smelled...
mcdonald's fries
instead of nectar
(oh well)
the rain
on its petals
wet my lips
and i
spat out
a glistening
poem.

educational
suicide bomber
took an in-class essay
to the jugular
pen to the heart
inkstained
fingers
fell apart
all the things
brain-washed into me
suddenly
dissipate
and float like ash
in the wake
of my explosion
or lack
thereof
ugh

why do the words
"he lost the home
he grew up in
forever
and could not
cope"
jump off the page
and smack me in the face
...maybe because
all that sentence is missing
is an s
or two

oh,
dead
sleeping
snoring
college student,
i have the strangest
affection
for you.
drooling
wheezing
beauty
you lie on your desk
like a spilled milkshake in a parking lot
occasionally mumbling
things about
classes
and rap lyrics
finally,
a man who understands
my ideals.

no rest
caffeine-induced
labor
the product:
a black and blue
crumpled
essay...
disappointed
parent.

seriously though
if those last two poems
weren't enough of a hint...
i'm going to ******* **** you.
just so you know
'n ****.

talk **** about me?
slides off
like butter
on a hot pan
when you tip it too far.
talk **** about my friends?
you get a brick
to the face.

it's nights like these
that i try to figure out
if i love you
but i've never been good
at puzzles
i always give up
on them

a borrowed pencil
coaxing out words
it never knew it had
in the hands
of another
guiltily.

if i could have
but a minute of peace
i'd get rid of everything else i own
and buy that moment
to coddle
like a child
until time
seeps out my fingers

wow.
that was the wrong thing to say to me,
*******.
whining at me
and telling me to amuse you
because you're bored
is the last thing
you'd ever
want to say to me,
trust me.
that's the quickest way
of making sure
i will be no where in sight
when you come looking
i am not
a game
don't push me around
trying to feel out my buttons
i am not
a toy
to play with.

....you want something to play with?
play with yourself,
*******.

i will save time,
littlest brother.
i will wrap it up
and put it into a box
to mature,
like a rare cheese
only for you and me.

on the day
that you come to me
and want to know
what it was like
before mom left
because you won't remember,
i will open our box
and show you.

first i will take out
a lock of mom's blonde hair
that used to fall
down to her waist
and i will tell you
what it looked like
in the sunshine
while we made
daisy chains.
i will tell you
how it turned brown
later on
and how mom let me sit
on her bed
and twist, twist, twist
for hours,
because i didn't know how to braid.
and how me and Erika sat
in front of the space heater
and dried off
after a bath
mom crocheting
on the bed,
singing.

then i will remove from our box
a crisp, shriveled leaf
from the Big Tree
and i will let you smell it.
i will say,
this is what
home smells like...
never forget,
littlest brother.
i will sit you on my lap
and paint you pictures with my fingers
i will reveal to you little indian huts
and smoky firepits
and *****, chipped toes.

lastly
i will steal from time
and will take from our box,
what is rightfully ours
and i will give you
the last shred
that i have saved
for so long...
just for you, littlest brother.
i will give you mom and dad
together.
happy.
i will give you mom and dad
in their funky, attic-smelling bathing suits
mom's tummy protruding with another older sister for you
standing on the hot stones
dad's big, funny glasses
glinting in the sun,
a sun that shown down
on something whole
something perfect.
i will give you mom and dad
snuggled under a blanket
on the couch
watching a movie together
mom giving dad 'the look'
as he chuckles...

littlest brother,
i will do all i can
to create memories for you...
because everyone deserves to remember
something happy...
littlest brother,
i will steal from time
all i can
all for you...
until time decides to take back
what is rightfully his.

"you're depressed"
they say.
"you won't go to class
you won't eat
all you do
is sleep
you're depressed"
they say.
"i'm surrounded by failures"
he says.
dad, it's not my fault
i don't want to go
"i'll have to think about this all day"
he says.
me too
dad.
"i have psychological stuff wrong with me
from trying to deal
with all of this
the least you could do
is go to school"
he says.
i can feel the slam of the door
in my ears
"you're disrespecting me"
he says.
i told my bestfriend
that i'm not eating
not sleeping
or maybe sleeping too much
i told her
i blacked out
lost all sense
of hearing
seeing
feeling
fell down
"you're depressed"
they say.

oh yeah
sure
let's ask the traumatized kid
if she knows anyone in that stage of psychological life
the one where you
start questioning
whether or not you're happy
and you often make
rash decisions
oh yeah.
i do know someone
who's right in that spot.
can you describe it
for the class?
what the hell, sure.
...as i explain to everyone
that my mother left
because she was bored
i watch the words "oh ****"
etch themselves
onto my professor's face
yep.
i'm never getting called on
again.

cry all your make up off
before nine am
just because
you remembered
your littlest brother's
face.
nice job,
brain.

tried to write three poems before this one
trying to put down how i feel about you
right now
in this second
i can't even get it out.
to attempt to summarize:
i pretty much just hate you.
also you lie a lot.