As a small girl your words used to lighten up my day.
As a small girl and boy we followed our parents and did as they say

As a small girl we jokes and played around.
As a small girl and boy we were innocent to the harshness of the sounds.

As an elementary girl I opened my eyes.
As an elementary boy you grew tall and spoke lies.

As an elementary girl I dealt with the words.
As an elementary boy, you were busy shooting rocks at birds.

As a middle school girl I was shy and closed.
As a middle school boy you followed the boy code.

As a middle school girl I was beaten and belittled.
As a middle school boy, you were oblivious I even crippled.

As a freshman girl I bleed and cried
As a freshman boy you were busy and never even sighed.

As a freshman girl I hid my scars at gym
As a freshman girl all the girls never even thought to help. or had even a whim

As a Junior boy you were popular and handsome.
As a Junior girl, girls knew we were old friends and for you, threw tantrums.

As a Junior girl I was taunted, and forced to tell you what they wanted.
As a junior boy Talking to me as to be beaten and to have friend that only taunted..

As a Senior girl I had long since stopped talking
As a senior girl I had long since dealt with the mocking.

As a senior girl I gave up and left tattoos on my skin for you to see.
As a senior girl It was all too much and I could no longer plea

As a Lonely broken girl I slit my wrists and soon died.
As a Oblivious boy you without a thought cried

As a girl strangely obsessed with macabre tales.
As a Saddened boy you were given my journal hued in grey.

As a  Heart-Hardened Girl it became a weakness. The tears stains on those dog-eared pages.
As a Shocked boy once in love with me in middle school. You never though in all the ages.

That the Gorgeous, womanly, Middle school girl was beaten.
That the Picture perfect, Middle school girl All her anger had deepened.

That you the once self-conscience middle school boy had not seen her cry.
That If only---
The Elementary boy
The Middle school boy
The Freshman Boy
The Junior Boy
The Senior Boy

The Oblivious boy Had seen any of her scaring.
Then the Oblivious, boy senior year would have had a diamond ring

But he never saw her cry .
And now her will never see her happily in his arms with solely a sigh.

I love school.
Am I crazy for this?
You like school.
Can we be crazry together?
Yes.
Let's be crazy together!

In second grade,
My mom made me wear dresses everyday.
My mom would part my hair down the middle and make two long braids with colorful hair ties.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my dresses.
The boy that sat behind me would pull my braids anytime I said something smart.

In fourth grade,
I told my mom I could dress myself, but she still had to approve of every outfit.
I told my mom I was old enough to style my own hair.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my weight instead of my clothes.
The boy that sat behind me would sit next to me and call me names for being the stupid one in smart classes.

In seventh grade,
I told my mom that I didn't care what she thought.
I cut my long hair shoulder length.
I started wearing dark makeup.
The boys didn't make fun of my weight but they would ask me out as a joke.
The boy that sat behind me and then next to me, liked me and texted me every night saying how pretty I was.

In the ninth grade,
My mom wasn't awake to see what I wore to school.
I regretted the very day I decided to cut my hair.
The boys that called me fat; left me alone because they found someone bigger to pick on.
The boy that sat behind me asked me for a naked picture and I said no.
He called me a fat, ugly, prude and never talked to me again.

In the tenth grade,
My mom borrowed my clothes and I borrowed hers.
My hair fell out but I wanted it to grow.
Boys no longer call me fat because they never saw me eat.
And the boy that sat behind me wanted me back.
I cried myself to sleep and hid my wrists in my sleeve.

It's funny how many things changed since the second grade.

They smoke dope and talk about the weather
Taking long, languid drags from half-burnt blunts
Leaning against the cold stone walls of the school
Watching their little sisters play basketball on the pavement
That used to be a garden

She trips in her too-big runners and her brother
Says fuck this
His friend continues to watch after he's long gone
She sees her sister glance up at her before making
A half-assed layup and
She lights up another one

She lay there:
So peaceful and tranquil it seemed
nothing would ever trouble her.
Her parents gazed fondly at their
perfect little girl
As the tears escaped their eyes,
Falling endlessly.

By her fifth birthday,
She had said her first word,
Developed a taste for chocolate,
Seen some of the big, wide world,
And recognised the thrill of laughing
uncontrollably.

At seven,
She made a new friend,
Fell out with another,
Read some new books,
And was always fascinated by her
geography lessons.

When she turned eleven,
She joined a dance class,
Went to France with school,
Baked some cupcakes,
And begged her mum to let her try on her
high heels.

Thirteen years of her life gone,
And she had her first kiss,
Argued with her parents,
Handed in a homework late,
And wished she was prettier, taller, thinner,
cleverer.

She was sixteen
When she had seen too much of the big, wide world,
And knew reality in all its cruel coldness.
She wore lots of makeup
And a fake smile to mask her
feelings.

It worked.

Until
She whispered,

“Take me to Wonderland.”

And shot herself in the head.

She lay there:
So peaceful and tranquil it seemed
nothing would ever trouble her.
Her parents gazed fondly at their
perfect little girl
As the tears escaped their eyes,
Falling endlessly.

The first time I stepped into school,
Admiring that beautiful wall of fame.
Carved in gold were so many names,
Dated back from decades ago.

Each year has a different name,
Each name part of history.
Shining bright under the light,
Too prestigious and too rare.

I told myself what if I could
See my name etched on the wall,
Nothing else can sweep it away,
Nothing else can wash it away.

But this dream of mine is dashed,
Thrown into the deepest sea,
Crushed almost for eternity,
Something I can never be.

I can't measure how much I've done,
Working so hard to get a step closer.
Each time I think I'm almost there,
I'm actually disillusioned,
I'm going nowhere.

From here I have two paths to go,
One to chase and persist on my goal,
Or I could simply accept my fate,
Give it a try,
Open my mind.
Perhaps that's where I'm meant to be.

My minds says one thing,
But my heart says another,
I hate these moments,
They're my greatest bother.

Is my life a book written my God?
Do all things happen for a reason,
Because that's how my fate was destined?
I wish I could know all the answers,
But I guess some things are secrets for our lifetime.

I wonder if I should go chase my dreams,
Be brave,
Be bold,
Be ridiculed at.

What if I grow to love my fate,
Loving,
Sharing,
Caring for others.

Is this the place that's meant for me?
I don't know the answer,
And I'll never know.

But how about the names in gold
And everything that seemed perfect to me?
To go forth and chase my dreams,
Or to just accept
My fate?

I struggle through school
I struggle through my emotions
Everyday is a challenge
I put up a jubilant front
But sometimes I get low
Grow into a ball of limbs and torso
Wrapping myself away,
Creating a shell of ifs and whens
Hot flashes and sweated dreams
Constantly spinning out of control and back again
Living for the remember, times past seem like moments better then they should
And I sit on my mattress and sheets
Circling in and out of depression

It must be hard to have me as your older sister.
It must be.
I call your cute little jokes "lame",
and ignore you when you tell me about your fantastic school day.
I refuse to hug you to sleep at night
even if you're afraid of the darkness that could swallow you up anytime.
I order you to do things around and you do them but
when you ask me to do things, I don't.
You try to get me to stop paying attention to my phone and
start paying attention to your piano pieces.
You try to get me to stop lying around all day and
start going to swim with you.
You ask me all the time:
"Can you go swimming with me?"
I always reply:
"No, I've got work/I'm lazy/. Go swim yourself."
And I don't understand that when you keep calling your friend over
it's because you feel lonely
She's the one who listens to you
play with you
talk to you
when I don't.
Well maybe I didn't understand that when I said:
"Why is she coming over again? You guys play like every single day. Do your work."
You try to make me happy by telling me interesting things.
I silence you out when you do that,
popping in my earphones
and you just sit there quietly.
It must be hard to have me as your older sister.

It must be hard to have me as your daughter.
I talk back 99% of the time just to prove I'm right,
because I am so thick-skinned I wouldn't actually admit even if I'm down right
wrong.
I always change my mind the last minute,
leaving you panicking and worrying about what to do.
I treat my younger sister badly, being really mean to her,
I don't understand how we are both precious to you
You don't want to see any of us getting
hurt.
You work so hard for me
I don't come out of my room to say hi to you when you come home
You bought a new wifi network set for me
when I kept complaining that the current set wasn't working
when it was just my fault for using it
too much.
You meticulously worked to come up with a nice study table design for us
I complained that your laptops were taking up too much space
and you moved it away to the living room
where you could only use it while standing.
You didn't say anything about it.
It must be hard to have me as your daughter.

It must be hard to have me as your friend.
I blast at you
and treat you like a punching bag
not being sensitive to your feelings.
I make you worry about me even when I have hurt you.
I tell you what I feel so frankly and
you get hurt.
You tell me you're always there to listen
yet I never listened to you.
You always notice when I'm about to fall down into that deep abyss of the unknown,
yet when you're falling I still can't find a rope to help you up.
You try to watch videos with me and
I move my attention to my phone.
It must be hard to have me as your friend.