if i have ever learned anything
"don't look back"
is the one
that would serve me best
if i let it.

but things aren't easy like that
humans can't just let the burning city rest
they have to turn around,
check
that it's
leaving
see if
anyone's still breathing.

the poor ******* that second guess
are the ones who don't get blessed
you've failed the easiest test,
red
now you're in trouble
again

exhaustion is carving lines on my face
like a painter scraping his palette of paint
you remove all color and with wanton replace
methodical gashes that won't erase.

baby has given up on mommy.
it's been too long
to keep hoping she'll get better
baby needs to pack her bags
move on.
two years
countless chances
to make something
anything
just a little better
countless chances
missed.
baby doesn't need a mother
baby has two arms
baby can hug herself
rock herself
tell herself
to behave
to
smile
baby has a heart
and a
head
she can
breathe
she doesn't need
a mother
she doesn't need
she doesn't

need.

i blame a lot.
i blame myself
i blame the people around me
i blame the people that left me
i blame this town
i blame my family
i blame
i blame
i blame.

but what if no one is to blame.
what if this actually is just some freak of nature
and this is just how the universe plays out
a sick dance of broken family trees
a pageant frilled up
for all the soul ******* humans
to see
and partake
maybe i was meant to be awake
maybe sleep isn't for me
for a reason
maybe i'm supposed to be the alive one
maybe dying makes you breathe
maybe i'm just not seeing
what i'm supposed to see
maybe everything is backwards
like my sister's overalls
at her backwards birthday party
when we were
three
maybe
maybe
maybe...

maybe destruction is actually


d       e             s              t             i      n         y

you are a beautiful little box at the bottom of my screen.
and somehow i am always shocked
when you want to talk to me.
the first thing i remember you saying
involved naked women and steak
and we were
twelve...
you're more awkward
than anyone i've ever met
and
the way you carry yourself speaks of unfamiliarity
with everything
and i feel like two planets trying to smash together
to make one
when we talk
because somehow
we never get
our point across...

...but
i
spent several years of my life loving you
a quiet little box
on the bottom of my screen
and you spent several years
loving a girl
with the prettiest feet
i ever saw

...i feel ok about this now.

dave,
i would make you pancakes
but instead i wrote you this poem.

try to throw up the little white pill
baby is
too scared to dream
but it's too late
it's already in
your bloodstream
stand up
pace the black room
fall
over
lay panting
fall
asleep

d                    r                    e ­                a              m

all i said
was that i'd always wanted to own a used bookstore
since i was a kid
and you replied
that you could get used to
seeing my **** ***
behind a counter
i don't mean to be cliche
but that kind of escalated
rather quickly,
******

peanut-butter sleep
from a green and yellow bottle
via a little
round
white
pill

baby is supposed to be in bed.
if baby doesn't sleep,
baby doesn't mend
daddy made me promise
to rest my aching head
but baby is too tired
baby feels too dead.

put my heavy head
to bed
too full of thoughts.
i'll have
too many dreams
they'll wake me up
and even though my eyes
will want so much
to close
i will pry them open
because i am
afraid

slip into the numb embrace
of the little white pill
that puts your brain to sleep.

littlered is so bent
a bicycle doctor couldn't figure her out.

sliding into bathwater
is nice
until your
head goes under
and you never
come
back
up

over scrambled eggs and toast at 4am
i have realized suddenly
that i miss the red dirt of africa
in my hair
making my eyes scratch
and my skin
gritty.

and that i miss
marvin
...*******.
if that little boy
isn't ok
then nothing
is

i no longer look both ways before crossing the street
i have decided to let Chance
have his way with me.
i've stopped stopping at stop signs
and watching my step on steep inclines

but Chance is a petty *******
and pays no respect to Intentions
be they good, bad, or
mediocre

i'm sure Chance wants me dead
him and all his friends
are tired of me
but he only wants his way
on his own terms.

everything leaves a heady
sickly sweet
aftertaste in my mouth
like whatever i ate
didn't want to go down
lord
help me
breathe

littlred's in trouble now
the scars
were found
someone's got to answer for them
and i hope to god
it won't be
me
i prayed for a year and a half
that dad wouldn't see

i'm in

trouble

i wish someone would think
"we're spreading Red
too thin"

erika's coming back in two weeks.
ah, the prodigal sister
who promised me that she'd give anything to spend the summer
with me
her
bestfriend
me who's
been alone
all year already
and trying to be ok
but no, she has to stay at school during the summer
study with her voice professor
launch her career
i
*******
get it
but give her
one day
and she calls dad
says she's going to kentucky
for the summer
to have fun
on her own
...oh.

i really don't remember ever being that angry
or hurt
i remember throwing things
and kicking a chair
and my foot even bled
and i swore at dad
and sobbed
and it was ridiculous
but it was how my insides felt.

and now she is back
for two weeks
and then gone again
i'm looking for somewhere to be
for two weeks
anyone want to
adopt me

prickly little thoughts
rudely address me
in the quiet
of the air conditioned
hidey-hole
i've spent my summer in.

thoughts like:
you're a *******
you're going to die here
they think you're joking
you should tell the truth, sometime
maybe it'd
be nice
why can't my face be
the way i want it
why can't my
stomach
be flatter
why can't
mom just
spontaneously combust
so i can have
my family back
why
why
why
you are
you are
you are

.
..
...
....
...
..
.

i talk a lot about
flying

i like the idea
of it

it doesn't even bother me
that those that fly, fall

i'll cheat the system
i'll have a rope

catch
me

i am glad that people want to help me
but they
put pills down me like a vending machine
and take a seat...
eagerly awaiting their
return-on-investment.

i suppose i could say a lot of mean things
about these people
who wait for me
to show a sign
of "getting better"...
but i am just like them
i sit in the corner of my mind
watching, waiting
for it to all subside
hitting my brain
the best i can
with shots of anesthesia
so those little pills
can operate
without
hurting
me

i am trying to erase
my childhood
the best that i can
but i guess
(and everyone else agrees)
we'd better call in
a better man.

i never realize how much i miss my bestfrand
until he messages me

...the *******.

i was in love with him for awhile
blue Skys are tempting
any time of the year
i have a thing for
boys with smashed hearts
but i
got over it
can't chase blue Skys
my whole life
high as **** Brian S.'s come along
cocky Dougs
slick Adams
****-naked Gregs
smooth-talking Wayne Gilberts
and smiling Elliots
and they take up the time
inbetween
they give me reasons to smile
or cringe
at least they
******* entertain me
keep me
busy
that's all i look for
i guess

...i'm shallow as ****
and i don't even care
i'm just glad
my blue Sky is back
i don't love him like i used to
but he still loves me
and that makes it
ok...
time to raise hell...
blue Sky
and summer time
go together
perfectly

******* it.

i am a sucker
for the word
"sweetheart".

and you, darling
you say it so pretty
and your laugh
sets mine off
perfectly...
and if anything is worth anything
is not a laugh that harmonizes with your own
something worth
going after?

you are too old for me
thirty three
is quite a long ways
from
twenty
but baby...
call me
sweetheart
one more time
and you can take me
to the bank.

mom was soft
like a cushion
when you sat on her lap as a child
and rested your cheek against her shoulder
she was better
than any
bed.

mothers should be soft.
i have come to this conclusion.
mom was never very thin
she was a perfect plump
with red cheeks
and rainbow eyes
and thin,
rough
dishwater fingers
that would stroke your cheek
and sing the goodnight song
she made up
just for us.

i don't like rainy nights.
it makes me feel like the whole world is crying.

i am finally
truly
impossibly
entirely
exhaust-ed
i am the waste
left over
from too much
being
and everything in me
is screaming
red
let me
rest
so i lay my head
on my pillow
but it pushes me off
says
i don't know you
get off me
and it
hurts.

baby is
so sleepy
but baby cannot remember
how to sleep
even her pillow
has forgotten
how to cup her head
and comfort
her
aching
neck
pillow,
be kind
please
i am so
so
tired

...i spent too much of today missing my mother
even thought i hate
everything about her
mommy,
come help me
remember how to sleep
you used to rock me
so
gently.

i never wanted to be one of those girls who ******* about their ex
and i guess i'm still not
because we were never even in a relationship
you asked
i said no
because you were weird
and kinda creepy
and obnoxious
and you hated me
for a really
long
time
afterward...
but
you have always
made sure
whenever you
you got into a relationship
to text me
and let me know
that SOMEONE wanted you
and every time
i tell you
i don't give
a ****...
at that moment, it's true.
but when you burst through my newsfeed on facebook
like someone exploded a firecracker in my face
rather indecorously
and i scroll through all your pictures
with that girl you claim to love so much
in all sorts of cute, make-me-puke positions
i feel really
alone
and like i'm the one
who was unwanted.

i don't really know if i regret my decision...
you seemed to get
un-weird
as time went on
and admittedly,
hotter...
i guess i am not jealous
in the sense that i want you
but in the sense that i want what you have...
Tim,
i somehow feel jipped by you
cheated
used
left for dead
even though
i am the one
who rejected you
for something better
i am the one
who is still
alone...

karma is
the worst of *******

i will chase happiness,
my childhood dream
down to the riverbank
in this foreign town
i will look for it
in the reflection of my face
on the water
with the sunlight
in my eyes.
i will follow it down the sidewalk
to the baseball diamond
where i once kicked up dust and gravel
on a sunny day
in contempt
of a bad call:
a dry-mouthed
wonderful
day.
i will pursue it
until i get to the big yellow house
of trauma
and i will close my eyes
and pretend that
home doesn't smell
like a crypt
i will see mom and dad
standing in the sunlight
on the shore of the lake
smiling.
i will think happy thoughts
i will dream happy dreams
i will be
happy
as long as i can tuck away
re
ali
ty
like a child that has
finally fallen asleep.

if i had
a big red rubber ball
i think i'd be happy.
i think i could
smile.
i could walk down the sidewalk,
and bounce it
and try not to think about
my little brothers' and sisters' faces
try not to think how
little jesse would
love a
big
red
rubber
ball
or how miriam would
try to stand on it
or how john would
kick it as far as he could
or how elayna would
paint it
mid-
air

if i had a big red rubber ball
i could be happy
for a couple of seconds
until i started to
think
...but maybe those seconds
would be
worth it...
if you love me
give it to me
but then
take it away

take me to a carnival, please.
just make sure you
protect me
from all the people
(big crowds
**** me off)
and don't win me
a stuffed animal
let me
do it
myself
but
tell me
how
wonderful i am
afterwards.
hold my hand
maybe just a little
give me
light kisses
on my lips
smile at me,
baby
baby needs a smile
sometimes
too.

i like to take pictures of me smiling
because i am a ginger baby
and we were born to grin,
daddy says so.

i like to look at them later
and remind myself how to arrange my lips
my cheeks
and the little rainbows
that live around my eyes
when i cannot think for a second
how on earth
i used to
smile

smile,
baby
they say
and you can have this one
for
free

baby doesn't want to sleep
baby is too busy
being awake
and
crying
baby doesn't know how to sleep
and there's no mother
to teach her
baby's mother
let's her cry
and cry
and cry
but baby's mother
has no intention
of teaching her to sleep
baby's mother
just likes to hear her
cry

i wish i
was there for
my little brothers and sisters.
because i know
i know they need me
i know that
there's a piece of them
that wastes away
without me
and i wish i
could be with them
but it is
too hard
and i am
too weak
i am
too frightened
of home

i am too
sorry

wine and
pistachios
(the expensive,
shelled ones)
at 6am.

one might say that
baby is refined
but baby is really
just an ugly drunk.

go through the rituals,
baby
make yourself feel better
massage your own neck
rub your eyes
lay down
until you die out.
tell your chest to be quiet
tell your head to stop pounding
tell your eyes to stop looking
let yourself
calm down
everyone tells you to calm down,
honey
but only when they leave
are you
calm
baby,
rest your
tired eyes
honey,
it won't be alright...
let that
comfort you

They filled you up
too much
now you have to cry
the constant
"Them".

i took
2600mg
of ibprofen
and my body feels numb
i wonder
how much more i can take
until the big lake in my chest
that is trying to escape out my eyes
will feel better

it feels good to sob.
the familiar tomb-embrace of my room
comforts me
but i want to take my heart out
with this knife i cut my arms with
and step on it until it is quiet.

someone make me feel better
anyone
please
.

some people have
really nice clothes
and
really nice cameras
to take pictures of themselves
in their clothes
with
and they
put them all over the internet
so they can say without saying
that they are better
than me
and i guess that's alright.
i don't have that kind of money for clothes
and even if i did
i hope i wouldn't be like them
plastering themselves on facebook
in edgy poses
painted with instagram filters
i hope i would be like i am now
a twenty year old girl
who buys new clothes twice a year
but adopts books like newborn babies
and can smile
genuinely
when the lord wills
a touch of
happiness

i guess what i'm trying to say
is
your designer jeans hurt my feelings
as does your expression
but i wouldn't want to
be you.

"oh dear
you've made yourself
all upset
you silly thing"
They say.
"don't you know
he wasn't drowning
that wasn't even
your little brother
the kid was
just messing around"
They say.
"you can breathe
just fine"
They say.

i wonder
if They know
how many times
i have seen my little brothers and sisters drowning
or falling
or crying out
for help
in a grocery cart
my mother is pushing
all crammed in
while i sleep

...well...
i guess i'll wonder
when i can
breathe again
hello,
little white pill
make me
feel
better.

little brother,
you could have the pink in my cheeks
if it made you happy.
you could have the spring in my step
(although it has been quite small
these last two years)
to play with.
you could have my rise
and my
shine
although i haven't seen them
for so long
i hardly remember what they look like
...i'll find them for you.
you could have
the golden apple
of my eye
a pretty play thing
to make you smile
you could have
all the sunshine
green grass
and cool water
that has ever befriended me.

i'd let you have it all
if i were only allowed to give it to you
if i could only
see you
without the crater in my chest
trying to eat me from the inside
if i could only
bear the sight of our mother
if i could only
stop cutting
if i could only
pretend better
if i could only
let you snuggle up against me
without crying
and making you wonder why
if i could only
be better for you
if i could only
do a lot of things
that i owe you...
little brother
i wish i was
stronger.

to my mother,
i am a garbage bag of old clothes
a messy, dusty room
that was empty for two years
a vacant bed...
an echo
in a big yellow house
that she never owned
alone
until now...
to my mother
i am a memory
and that's where
she likes to keep me
a pretty little cardboard box
of old notes
that she ties a ribbon around.

mother,
this garbage bag
of clothes
that i had to replace
two years ago
when you made me and daddy leave
makes me cry
because i am not the only one
who is a bag of old clothes
no longer needed
i have learned
to no longer need you,
too
and it isn't
fair.

i woke up unrested
and feeling like ****
and the stark contrast
of the beautiful day
bleeding in from my window
****** me off.
to make it even worse...
i can hear the cicadas buzzing.
i'm wasting my life
more importantly,
my summer
and i don't even
give a ****

oh
small
white
oval
pill,

i send you down my throat
and i can feel the tension leave me.

i am only scared
for when you run out
what will calm me
then?

pick me up
play with me
accidentally
drop me
mommy
throws me
away.
i lie in a plastic can for
two days
get wrapped up
put outside
in the fresh morning air
for
two hours
picked up
dumped
into a big truck
with other people
just
like
me
we take a roadtrip
try to see
what there is
to see
but the view
is pretty ******
we all have a convention
in a big, loud building
we talk about
what we did wrong
and what really wasn't
our fault
some don't even
talk
because they are
too broken...
...we are suddenly
put back together
(in a sense)
back into
working order
crushed into
orderly cubes
so not one of us
hangs loose
they
file us away
where we stay
and stay
and
stay
rejects
of a society
that broke us

i like strawberry ice cream.
it makes me feel like my tummy is smiling
even when my mouth can't.
it makes me feel ok
for the ten minutes i take
to eat a spoonful
it makes me feel
like these ten minutes that i have
aren't going to be spent
wasting something
even though
that will never be
true.

years from now
i will look back
at all my summers
and get super nostalgic
probably.

people keep asking me
"so Red...what are you doing this summer?"
and then smile at me
like i have something
exciting to tell.

i *******.
for like
four minutes
until they get bored
and
walk away
because honestly
i have spent this entire summer
staring
at
a
wall
in my bedroom.
not even an interesting wall
outside of my house
...nope.

i have spent this summer
in various ridiculous positions
on my bed
or floor
in front of my laptop
trying to figure out
why this ***** so much
and why i can't
go out anywhere
and why whenever i do
i wish i hadn't.

maybe because
i'm tired of trying to make my life sound
PC
and exciting
when it isn't
and the people that ask
don't really care if it is
anyway
they just want something new to say
around the dinnertable
to more people who don't care if i'm alive or dead
but only care if i'm
lazy
then they'll
talk about me

yeah....
i think i'll just stay
in here.

i've long since
recycled
that letter
you sent me
but it came back today
in a notebook
i bought
at walmart
your words live on,
you *******

if i can learn
neither to be alone
or to be with others
to play nicely
with the other children
by lack of mother's
teaching
(she never got along
with anyone)
what can i be?
i can make friends with
make believe
i can make friends with
the omnipresent dust
the whirling breeze
the freckle
on my shoulder
but i have made such good friends
with the empty
in me
and he has a bad case of
jealousy
...at least mother would be
proud

i have decided to have a dream
in which i run away
drive for a very long time
in the summer heat
listen to bad music
blare at me
on cracked roads
until i arrive
at the sea
where i will jump in
and let it hug me
until i no longer
breathe

i am so tired
of staring at these four walls
that define my existence
but whenever i leave them
i wish i was
in their stranglehold
embrace.
everyone wants to know
why i won't do this
or why i don't do that
or why i can't sleep
and i always tell them
that there is nothing wrong with me at all
and that would be true
if the small movies
of my childhood
didn't play against my eyelids
every time i try
to rest my tired
spine
daddy,
i am not
fine.

i don't write
love poems.
love doesn't
make sense to me
i get tired of people
too easily.
i don't see beauty
in the curvature
of a neck
i see the muscles
of a monster
ready to flex
i don't see
a beautiful smile
i see lips
that can do too many
acrobatic
flips
i don't see soft hands
or rough calluses
i see
weapons
of mass
demands...

they are not pretty
to me.

love is a war
and not the kind about good and evil
the kind simply about
staying alive
and being whatever you have to be
to do so.
it's not about seeing
the beauty in flaws
it's about exposing them
and running away
from them
love has turned us all
into killers
who are forever out for fresh blood
forever looking
for more

...my mother always said
all is fair
in love
and
war

i like these
sleeping pills
they actually force me
to close my eyes
i wonder why
i can't ever sleep
really
i am
very
tired
of everything

today
instead of
feeling better
feeling prettier
feeling less like
a *******
when i drew
black lines
across my eyes
i felt
disconnected.
the lengthening curves
did not flatter me
they made me
hollow
hungry
old.
electrical tape
holding together
burned out fuses
they carved me out
left me
for dead
all i wanted
was some help
all i got
was a reminder
of my impending
futility
my impending dissatisfaction
i always top off
too quickly
i'll need something else
to make me feel better
soon.