6 year old me knows better than me now,
She told me how;

The future heaven is,
Singing in the rain is paradise.
It takes,
to go THE DISTANCE so...
People try to change you.
Take the PROS and
leave the
Live your LIFE
enjoy it 'till the day you
don't worry.

I guess it was easier then...

“If it makes you less sad, I will die by your hand.
Hope you find out what you are; already know what I am.”

I am your daughter. And I don’t understand why you don’t want to play with me anymore or why you don't hum while you fold laundry or make spaghetti or smile when I do a silly dance to the music on the radio like you used to.

“And if it makes you less sad, we’ll start talking again
You can tell me how vile I already know that I am.”

I know I’ve been bad. I know I shouldn’t play with your makeup or cut my hair with your scissors, but I promise I’ll do better. I’ll make it better.

“I’ll grow old, start acting my age-
It’ll be a brand new day in a life that you hate.
A crown of gold, a heart that’s harder than stone,
And it hurts to hold on, but it’s missed when it’s gone.”

I know the fights you have with Daddy are about me. I heard you when you thought I was sleeping. I’m sorry I fight with Ryan. All I want is for us to be able to fly kites at the park and ride our roller skates around on the sidewalk with all those big safety pads like we did that one time in our family videos for my birthday when you made me that cake I liked so much that I ate a handful before I even blew out the candles.

“Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not.
I’m glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget.”

You told me once that I look like him and that it’s hard for you to even look at me sometimes. I would look like anyone else if I knew how.

“If it makes you less sad, I’ll move out of this state;
You can keep to yourself, I’ll keep out of your way.
And if it makes you less sad, I’ll take your pictures all down.
Every picture you paint, I will paint myself out.”

I wish I knew how to make you look at me like you’re proud of me.

“It’s cold as a tomb, and it’s dark in your room
When I sneak to your bed to pour salt in your wounds.”

I know I remind you of things you don’t want to remember. I just want you to get out of bed today and maybe make Mickey and Minnie Mouse shaped pancakes with a bow on her head with homemade syrup like you used to, so that I know things can be okay again.

“So call it quits, or get a grip.
You say you wanted a solution; you just wanted to be missed.”

When Daddy said you had to go away for a while to get better because you were hurt, I was scared you weren’t ever going to come back because you were somewhere that you liked better than here. And then I was scared because I kinda wanted you to stay there.

“Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not.
I’m glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget.
So you can forget, you can forget.”

Everyone says it’s not my fault, but I know they’re wrong when I look at you and can see that look on your face that’s the same look you had when Misses Page asked you what happened to my back.

“You are calm and reposed.
Let your beauty unfold.
Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones.
Spring keeps you ever close;
You are second-hand smoke.
You are so fragile and thin, standing trial for your sins;
Holding on to yourself the best you can.
You are the smell before rain.
You are the blood in my veins”

I love you. I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid of you.

“Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not.
I’m glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget.”

But I wont. Because I can’t.

Mar 17

One day he's going to realize that he doesn't have a family, that he scared them all away.

- 6 year old on her father

Apr 7, 2013

Wherever he'd believed me,
it'd been a temperate climate.
Not too cold, not too hot, one
of those Buddhist middle path
days where the weather sat to
meditate. What I'd told him was,
"well, my friend, there is nothing
new under the sun."

He giggled like a 6 year old and
said, "except when I turn over

Kate Lyn
Kate Lyn
Feb 20, 2013

There are just some things
That will never leave your heart after you see them
Like your 6 year old sister heaving a bowling ball all the way to the lane
Just to let it drop
And watching in anticipation as it creeps towards the pins
It's not even those things, really
It's just the fact that I will miss her little smile
I'll miss
watching her grow up

Jan 12, 2012

The cancer ate my sister's heart,
her liver, her bones,
and now I'm alone
with my sick-stomached guilt
and my never-told confession.
Remember, we were younger. Our neighbor's sister
came home with a bloody nose and you turned to me,
"What would you do if that was me?"
6 year old certainty, "I'd kill them,"
swelling with 6 year old bravado,
"I'd kill
who hurt you."
Our mother was appalled and our father told me not to say things I didn't mean, but
I meant it then.
And sweetheart, I mean it now.
I can't kill the cancer, because it's already killed you.
I can't kill the husband, because he's already dead
(left you widowed and heartbroken, my only sister,
and I am to blame).
And so I'm standing here, looking at the
jagged-box-shaped rocks so far far far below,
and I'm thinking
(stacking box, after box, after box
in her empty-floored apartment),
and I'm wishing
(to the crier of sorrows I've never known)
and I'm breathing
(if only he hadn't been the adulterer)
and I'm jumping
(with me).

Neha Singh
Mar 5, 2013      Mar 6, 2013

when i'm with you
i'm a teenager
riding my new ladybird
buying my 1st strawberry soda

when i'm with you
i'm a 6 year old
happily drunk on frooti
swinging in the park
infront of my house

when i'm with you
i'm as shy as a teenager
wearing a laced bra
for the first time

when i'm with you
i see a butterfly flutterby
and wonder just how many of them
are inside my heart

when i'm with you
i feel the wind in my hair
while you take me in your arms
and spin the world around me

when i'm with you
i am that 6 year old
playing hopscotch
holding my skirt
kicking about with my small toes

when i'm with you
i'm wearing that babypink & cream frock
that my father gifted on my 6th birthday,
and running around barefoot with joy

when i'm with you
i'm that shy teeanger coz
my crush has a crush on me too

when i'm with you
i want to buy popsicles & cotton candies
and collect stickers and tazos with you

when i'm with you
i let you tie my laces
and choose which color of gems
i am going to have next

When i'm with you
i wonder how blue the skies are
how green the grass is
how flirtatious the wind is
and why you love me so much

in memory of a rare love, written in a heartbeat.
Hayley Simpson
Hayley Simpson
Sep 3, 2012      September 04, 2012

Dear Pickle,

You are making my face sour. Mom is mad at you for skipping school and I have to talk her down again.

Maybe next time you can write me a 1200 word essay on "How stupid your decisions are", So I can mark it up with red pen before you lose grades on your ribs.

Sister, you need to calm your ass down, because the world isn't a race and the underdog doesn't always come in first, or even second.
But take a second to stop breathing that smoke you call air, everybody is choking on the smell of teen-spirit.
The tattoos not yet ingaved in your skin will serve as a reminder of how you took last place in a family full of sharp broken pieces of glass.
I tell Mom "Don't worry, it's just a phase, she just needs a second to find her place, in this world" But, at this rate, I'm not sure you will.

Because, people will knock on your door and hand you bottles of quick fixes and Novocaine, and I hope that this poem isn't in vain to serve as a reminder of that little girl that still caught fireflies in her teeth.

And I am sorry I left for 3 years without watching your molecules multiply, but I wrote my times tables on the back of my diploma for you to study.

That 6 year old girl with woodland creature cheeks hasn't been forgotten.
That 6 year old girl who never failed to puke in the car after a glass of milk hasn't been forgotten.
That 6 year old girl that cried every time we told anyone you are cat food under the kitchen table hasn't been forgotten.

I am sorry, can you bring her back now?

And for me, could you stop making Mom cry, she has watered so many Forget-me-nots that I am afraid her roots are drowning.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all the time you bared swords and shields to defend me against the stereotypes that threatened to staple them themselves to the inside of our cheeks, but come on...get your shit together.

We are blood-brothers...with vaginas.
Don't you dare break that bond because if you do I will lock you in the closet, turn the lights of and leave you in there screaming and crying until the rebellion leaves your bladder.

I'm your sister, not your mother. I will not birth any more brother screw-ups for you to father.


Written (2012)

Author: I wrote this for my younger sister who is only 3 years younger than me, the youngest one in our family. It started when I used to call her "Pickle".
Colin O'Malley
Colin O'Malley
May 1      May 1

dark blue spring sky
sitting high above my head
yet i can barely remember how
yellow the slide was where
id watch my parents sit and smoke
as my youth would flash down
into the dirt

watering the grass became a sport
less a chore
as bumblebees would spring out
of the blades only to
be shot down by a rush of

cut up knees and cigarette burns
erected a time of what i thought
could be but definitely was not
total bliss
i still feel the very pain
of falling face first into
the gravel
only to grovel at the
streams of blood and dirt
flowing from my very body

thats it, my 6 year old self thought,
im dirt

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