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

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.
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).

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".
ecause it was pretty life-altering to a 6-year-old.
ellen menzies
ellen menzies
Mar 12, 2013

I'd say
I'm feeling pretty fucking inadequate right now
So thanks for that.

"Even your brother's degree
is better than yours."
Fuck you too, dad.
What's all this
about "follow your dreams"
That you preached when I was a child?
Or was that all bullshit to you?
Because it was pretty life-altering to a 6-year-old.

I get it
You want what's best for me.
But "best" is subjective--
I'm not looking for 9-5 in an office,
2.5 kids and a white picket fence by the time I'm 30.

So deal
With the fact that my degree doesn't automatically
Lead to a career,
I'll figure something out
and I'll be fine.

Don't fucking call me inadequate.

Sound Of Rain
Sound Of Rain
Nov 6, 2013      Nov 7, 2013

The two words that automatically come to
my mind when I see you: Imperfectly Perfect.
The way your eyes light up when you're excited,
the way you smile like a 5 year old when you're happy,
the way you roll your eyes and then secretly smile when I tease you,
the way you try to act annoyed with me but end up laughing,
the way you dance when you're hyper,
the way you show me the peace sign at random times,
the way you talk, some times like a tantrum throwing little 6 year old,
the way you're so stubborn,
the way you order me around.
the way you understand me so perfectly,
the way you hug me,
the way you add a "Maybe" after thanking someone,
and the way you do so many other things.

It's adorable how you're shy at the most unneeded times,
and how you're careful about the decisions you make,
and how you and I have a similar perspective,
it's like you know exactly what you want, and how you want it.

Standing over here and looking back, I feel so blessed.
Having you as my best friend is something I never thought was possible.
If only you saw yourself through my eyes,
you'd realize just how amazing you are.
Thank you for being there for me and pulling me through hard times,
I'll always be here for you, the same way you've always been there for me.

Dedicated to my amazing Best friend. You're amazing. And though this poem isn't very (can't find the right word) nice or anything(?) yeah. It's for you. :)
Will Storck
Will Storck
Jan 4, 2010

“…open wide! The all-new Angus third-pounder…”
“…illiteracy: an incurable disease or education malpractice…”
“…childhood obesity is at an all-time high…”
“…suicide bomber, 10 people dead…”
“…teachers on strike again…”
“…Michael Jackson…”
“…another Amber Alert has been issued…”
“…number of Americans going hungry increases…”
“…ninety-six billion pounds of food go to waste each year…”
“…Nicole Kidman loves her new boobs…”
“…another soldier was killed yesterday in a firefight…”
“...you can do to protect against H1N1…”
“…live the rainbow, taste the rainbow…”
“…the King of Pop…”
“…confirmed: the remains belonged to 6 year old…”
“…boy refuses to pledge allegiance unless gays and lesbians have equal rights...”
“…scientist reveals her secret life as a prostitute...”
“…police are waiting on a positive ID on the girl’s body...”
“…Michael Jackson...”
“…actor who played Santa Claus jailed for having sex with boys…”
“…Iran is restarting their nuclear facility…”
“…armed teen jumped the pizza delivery man…”
“…woman who has three hundred orgasms a day finally meets her dream man…”
“…why we love Taylor Swift…”
“fifteen year old son, shot by his father, has died tonight…”

Skye Applebome
Skye Applebome
Jul 3, 2013      Jul 4, 2013

Alone in mind, not in presence,
The boy cannot do this.
He has gone on for as long as he could, but the knife isn't enough anymore. No amount of physical pain can distract him from his bleeding heart and howling soul.
He types an email instead of writing it, because his hands shake too hard.
He writes a different one for each person and hits send. Nobody will know until it's too late: the clock reads 3:16 AM, and he's hundreds of miles away. He does handwrite one thing, however: he leaves it on the counter in an envelope, the front of which reads "Mom".

He exits his bedroom, and takes a last look at his surroundings, kisses his sleeping 6 year old sister on the head one last time, and walks to the balcony.
He remembers, two years ago, when she fell.
Fitting, yet ironic, he thinks. that he would leave the same way. He looks at the stars, whispers "Goodbye," and leaps. The cool night air rushes around him momentarily, then-nothing.
"Hello?" he calls into the nothingness. No answer.
He calls again, with the same result.
Slowly, the painful reality of his situation dawns on him, with horrifying clarity:
This is the afterlife, and it is worse than the real world was.
But it's too late. He can't take it back, and he is doomed to eternal  loneliness and complete nothingness.

Just an alternate version of Lost. I know the last two lines are redundant, but I like the effect.
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