childhood memories feel like rust
crumbling in my fingers and leaving their orange stains
as i skip over the horrific teenaged years
that my little sister
remembers as her childhood.

i resent her for having a bad childhood.
i say that our childhood was good, was great
with two loving parents
in a big house in the country
with long grass and animals to hold.
but her childhood was a falling down home
with seeping walls and crying mothers and a screaming father
stuck in a house that imprisoned all of us in seclusion
and an older redheaded sister
who maintained control in her life
run by parents who no longer saw reason or justice
by treating her little redheaded sister
like trash.

i forget that her childhood was not mine
i forget that the things she remembers were awful
that daddy did scream and shove
that mommy did cry and quake and throw and push and smash and shove and scream and rip
in the middle of the night
while she slept
and i wandered
the lonely caverns of my book-filled room
where i hid with my fantastical friends
who shielded me from the screams
in the middle of the night
that your deaf ears
missed

i am sorry for undermining the truth of your childhood
i forget that we are different
i forget what changed
i forget the hidden, resentful monster that overtook our parents
and bled down into their children
but you,
you remember
it was the only thing you knew

i remember the good,
you remember
the screams

"do you have chemistry?"

like we walk into the same room and start to fizzle
like we react together in a complimentary manner
like he could actually pass highschool chemistry.

does it matter?
does it matter if i have nothing to say to him
does it matter that of all people i can't think of a single topic to broach
a silly sentence to embark upon
a single thought
doesn't occur to me.

the stretches of silence are longer than the last one.
with the last, we talked too much.
every silence ached.
with this one, i am glad to not have to talk.
i am glad of the quiet.
i am glad of the lack of chemistry.

he asked me
what i liked most about him
and i thought for a whole afternoon.
the only thing that came to mind was that i liked him because he liked me...
am i that poor?
have i not the self-worth to turn them away when they beg at my feet
why do they beg
anyway
what have i
to offer
i am fat
and very
very
tired
and
afraid...

i used to really like chemistry.
but now i don't see its merit
too many things to memorize
and my memory is **** these days
his brown eyes
slipping out quietly
as i imagine him swelling bigger and bigger -
a grotesque image to smooth out the beautiful ones
that i know were there.

we don't have chemistry,
but we have animal attraction.
perhaps it is something (better) similar.

is that
heartburn in my chest
or is the battery acid seeping from my over-charged heart creeping back up
fighting to get out
expel itself from this sinking ship.

you don't ruin everything.
everything ruins someone
and everyone ruins something.
the circle of life
rides its line
ruthlessly
cutting into the track fate laid across my wrists.

you can't recharge dying batteries. leave them alone too long and they leak a hazardous acid
touch it, and it'll eat away at your fingers

just try and take it out of me.
i dare you.
try to make me better.
it'll eat away at you too,
just like it eats me.

i am done
with this mother ****
i don't deserve this
i don't deserve to be ****** over
one more time
you don't deserve
another broken heart
to hang on your wall
and admire
haven't you enough notches
in your gun
must you have
one more
dead
daughter
to stuff
and mount

purple broken lantern lights
in the finger numbing cold of this cement cage
white buzzing lights in my face.

mental strain:
an annotated bibliography

people do not die.

they
fall through pavement
or slide under semi-trucks
or glide off bridges
into the soft embrace of water
into a place
in another state

and i don't ever see them
because they moved away
but they will be back
and maybe it's hard to keep in contact
long distance
relationships
****
but someday we'll hang out again
and it will be weird at first
because we will have changed
and
grown
but after a while
it will feel
just the same

why is it that every time a boy passes me in the hall
i feel guilty
like i owe something i haven't paid
like i ought to have something but i haven't taken the time to get up and get it -
embarrassed.

boy,
why does the back of your neck frighten me
why does the suggestion of your frame
make me wish i was not existing
what is it about you that is so
*******
scary

i am a goddess
a wisdom
a prose
and yet i cannot look normalcy in the face
you are nothing special
but you are enough to untie my laces

it's always nice
to start your tuesday morning off
with a panic attack
from a stale memory
that slips through your dreams
often unnoticed
but not today.

the most frightened i have ever been in my life
was not that one time i was almost kidnapped in africa
(it really did happen, i'm not making **** up),
it was when we drove in the driveway
and you weren't there,
mom.
the most frightened i have ever been
ever
was when i came home
to no one
on june 22nd
2011.

skip ahead six days
(not even a week, thanks for ******* waiting)
and i wake up
to a sheriff in my kitchen
slapping my father
with an order of protection

fast forward
ten minutes
ten garbage-bagged
dusty
boxing
stuffing
dragging minutes
and we're gone.
that big
old
falling down yellow house
that i spent my entire life in
all my things
and half my family
have been taken from me
and i never even got to say
goodbye.

next three months
i don't have a home
staying at my married sister's
who really doesn't want us there
every night
an angry, crazed phone call
i beg you to come home
to tell me where you are
to let me talk
to my four youngest siblings
who you have stolen...
i pleaded with you,
mom.
i begged you to come back to me.
but you didn't care.

sometime during that first christmas
i became a cutter
because i couldn't deal
with the panic attacks
imagining you leaving me
and never coming back
all over again.
and that christmas
wasn't christmas
it was some cheap
flimsy
knock off
that knocked me off
balance.
i almost lost it
that day.

five months later
we get
kicked out of my sister's
rent a house
in an unfamiliar town
just me and dad
now.
so suddenly dropped
in a place i knew not how to interact in
new
everything.
let's just add
another complex
how about some
displacement
for the mix?

court dates
a hideous lawyer
her name fitting her job description
sue
i can still see her face
more monster than human
laughing with my mom
when we
lost.

that day
in court
you broke me.
that was it.
when i talked
of the goodness of my family,
my father,
me
you lied.
right to my face,
mom.
and i
hate you
for
it.

even now
two years later
i cannot bear it when you hug me
i'm a fake
through and through
you should see my face
when you kiss my cheek,
mom.
i can't stop it
me
from hating you
from hating what you did
to Elayna, John, Miriam
and little Jesse
who was only five
and will not remember
ever having his dad
or
me.

mom,
i wish you knew
how this feels
you wouldn't be able to stand it
because you're weak
and manipulative
and a liar
the only reason i'm still here
is because i cannot break
those four children's hearts
all over again
they've been
through enough...
but it's days like these
i wish i had no ties
i wish i could get away from the lies
i wish i could finally be at peace
i wish i could

die

you are allowed a certain amount of dissonance in this world
and when it is up
you are shuffled back into the sticky embrace of playing cards
where you must learn all the new games
as they come with the changing times.
you must not put up a fuss...
honey,
it's not your place
you do not run the game
you are here
to be
played.

i was in debt the day i was born.
the nurse said i was a natural red,
mom didn't believe her
boy
did i
show her

indebted to the woman's womb i struggled out of
the man's genes i inherited
and they dare to ask me
"are you a natural
red?"

the color of my blood is a natural ginger
just enough in my father's mustache

i am in debt
naturally
sometimes i can still feel
the umbilical cord
that she guilted me
into keeping
attached

i was born in debt
i am in the red
naturally
mommy
won't let go of me
i tried to get away
twenty
years ago
she could show
you the scars

he listens to me in vermont
as i breathe in new york
the slow labored tones
of sleep.

from a scratched house by a ****** park
to a rich wooden cottage deep in snow-hushed woods
my moose listens to my little sighs
and groans
and going-to-sleep-noises.

the way he clears his throat comforts me.

"it'll get easier"
they say
"holidays won't be so hard forever"
they say
"christmas will be better next year"
they say
"it won't hurt so much after a while"
they say
"mom'll come back someday"
they say
"she'll come to her senses"
"she'll realize her mistake"
"she'll miss her family"
"the kids won't forget about their big sister"
"she won't disappear again"
"you're gonna be fine"
"it'll all sort itself out"
"just be patient"
"it was your dad's fault"
"she was crazy"
"give it time"
they say.

they
(whoever they are)
do a lot
of talking
but not enough
to make today
feel alright
because i can't look anywhere
without seeing us down by the lake
with watermelon dripping down our chins
and scraggly weeds
growing inbetween the rocks

i miss that thing i used to have

f                    
                    a
            m


        i                 ­       
                                     l


                                                             ­              y

the elitists have decided lilred is worthy of their presence
that she is funny enough to banter her way through their parties
that she, but none of her other friends
has graduated to the upper-classmen
"make sure you tell her to keep it quiet
not to tell those other people where she's going tonight"
it is a privilege
to hang with the dog-eaters
to sip from solo cups
standing with legs crossed
eyes rolling
at the antics of the elitist boys

but lilred doesn't want to be
another toy
in their collection
to be brought out
when the parties drag
wound up
and
let loose.
lilred knows
just what goes on
lilred likes her other friends
who don't
but poor lilred
she still
goes...

welcome to
the elitists

we all float on
all shine on
like the sun and the moon and the stars
like light glinting off the shiny new fender of a car that's going to get me places

i'm gorgeous.
i'm infectious.
i have a beautiful ***
and i can state euthyphro's 5 definitions of piety, *****.

do i look
like i need
your sorry
***?

i just
charged my old phone
my first phone
i got when i was 18
the phone that i didn't have long
before my mother
cut off our account
after she'd left

and on that phone
are hundreds of old
messages
from family
friends
me
pictures
oh god
pictures
of the old room in my sisters house
pictures of the packed truck
that me and my sister
and my dad
were shoved into
a picture of the sheriff's car
outside the window
of my sister's room
the sheriff
that stole our
family
no...
i guess that was
mom.

there are
pictures of a scrape i got on my arm
while moving dad's filing cabinet
into a house we didn't belong in
an innocent picture
meant to remember
the day
but somehow
over a year and a half
it's become obscene
in my eyes
cuts on my arm
are remembered
for different reasons now.

pictures of the one happy day
before we were forced to leave;
the waterfall.
the day before we left
i slipped
and fell into
the rushing rage
of that waterfall
almost drowned
but held on
to the ledge
i wonder why
i lost control
of everything
so suddenly

so many texts
of advice
from my eldest sister
we had to be so careful
how we talked to mom
so she would keep calling
so we could try and figure out
where she was
the absolute
crushing
engulfing
horror
of those summer days
slam into me
like a wrecking ball
today....

god...
will i ever
get over
the pain

i love a moose
he's a perfect moose
with the perfect amount of flaws
i was wrong when i said i didn't love him
i do.

i'll keep
you

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

if i wished to embark upon you
would you
lend me
a foothold
or would you harden
to marble
and watch me
slide
away

fear
that is not dealt with
but pushed aside
shoved down
buckled into a suitcase
still existing
just out of sight
is fear that will return
fear that will
conquer
fear that is waiting
for the most opportune moment
to spring its jail
and defeat
you
because you never
thought about it
until it was
too late
littleredwritinghood,
you are
in trouble
you can hold that fear under the surface
all you want
but it will not drown
fear has enough faces
to replace
any one that manages to fade
fear is
your mother's
face

if i were a boy
to be honest
i would probably do all the things you boys do -
i would **** girls
and take names

being a girl
if i had the same ability you do
i would **** boys
and take names

but i am blessed by my shortcomings
my chubby face
my awkward side profile
my angular nose,
my gender.

quick!
tell yourself you're ok.
quick!
before you realize
you aren't.

for once
i wish i had more time
before my next class
i wish i had forever
wrapped up
like a rubberband ball
i wish i could unravel it
and disappear.

sometimes when i think about being skinny
i get worried that if i ever do
i'll be one of those ugly skinny girls
instead of one of the pretty ones
and that would be terrible
i mean
isn't the object of the game
to be the highest
in demand
and if that doesn't work out
what do i do?
get fat again?
shoplift my features from a twisted magazine
in the media maven's fist?
yeah, that's a good idea.

**the problem is not that girls or guys are ugly and need to be prettier
the problem is on the inside of people's faces
i have begun to realize that this is not all their fault
we are desensitized from a young age
and though we might try to resist
television, facebook, tumblr
flashes us a picture of an unhealthily thin young woman
and tells us to strive to that standard.
even if you mock it
the image is in your head
and you begin to make small comparisons
i don't know if we can change our thinking anymore
people try, it hasn't worked very well
but WE CAN CHANGE the images that are put in our mind
for the people
by the people
rage against the barbie doll machine.

cast not thine pearls before swine
bare not your heart
to fools.

don't show him the twisted, living coil that hides inside -
the innerworkings of your insecurities
he will not find them illustrious.

my worst fear
is to be thought
dramatic

i am fascinated with the unruliness of some girls' hair
the plainness around their eyes
the strangeness of their earrings
the smell of the cigarettes inbetween their fingers

i wonder at their worn brown boots
and slightly crooked teeth
and dry lips
and i think
they are the most beautiful things
i have ever seen
almost untouched
by things that beat me down
like the image of victora's secret underwear
and the world's first super model telling girls their thighs are too fat

i want to be one of those slightly unkempt women
they're like uncaged animals
i want to have what they have

but i am a product of this society
it is too late for me
i am destined to be unsatisfied
forever
i will always hate something about me
even if i don't mean to
i will always wear too much make up
and too low shirts
and preach the mainstream way of life

my fingernails will never be *****.
i will always be merely pretty
i wish i was
interesting

my head is pounding
my eyes are sore
yesterday
still fresh on my face...
maybe even the day before
i'm starting to feel like i'm not functioning properly
like i've just become some waif
that haunts you
but only because
you make me
i'd rather just
leave.

honest to god
i'm sick of writing poetry about you
i hate all the ones before this
but you drive me to it
i can't stop.
you do things to me
that make the poetry
spill out.

stop hugging me
stop making me stay up with you
what do you want from me?
am i just a fellow insomniac
to cling to?
why do all the boys i love
make me stay up so late?
why can't i have an afternoon love?
why is it always a 4am
affair?

this puppy grew up too fast
and i hate to say it
but i don't think i like
dogs
after all.

it hurts,
skyler.
stop.

once upon a time
mcdonald's was this big deal
like, the spokesperson
of quality food
in the 40's
and now it's like
yeah, olympic champions
say that they get their
spit-on
half-mystery meat
fix
there
but who are they kidding
(maybe their moms)
and now if you like it on facebook
you're some kind of degenerate
i mean really
i totally judge people who like mcdonalds
on facebook
and if you work there
you're the **** of the earth
probably pregnant
don't shower
snort a lot of *******
and are on wellfare
even worse
if you go there
you're honey boo boo's mom
or something
man
stuff sure goes downhill
after 73 years
i hope i don't
turn into
maccy d's
when i'm
73
god.

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

******* nothing threatening to draw me close
hold me like the *** freak in his chest did
stroking my hair and cooing in my ear
dripping words as he puts his hand between my legs

ringed fingers gripping my neck
shoving away my frightened fingers
trying to break free
on the couch
he ruined my favorite movie as a child
taking my body from my control as it played in the background
a sick contrast

jesus reminding me what i am losing
in my mistakes
as i cling to the cross they crucify me on
the man that forces himself on me
a much bigger
more tangible one
than the god that told my father
it was okay
for him to come
stay

i sit
jump up and down
on the over-stuffed suitcase
that is my mind.
it won't close;
i take some things out
examine them
decide if i want to
take them with me
but some things
won't leave...
i was hoping to lose my luggage
properly
this time around
but the ******* customs people
always send it back home with me
*******

today someone told me
that i have innocent eyes
i replied
*******
******

please spare me
from every man
follow me
in the bright walkways
the crowded cafes
through every snapchat
message
i am afraid
of losing so much
again
lord,
protect me
i have nothing else
to plead to

we fight demons that trickle out our ears
and run down our cuffs
garishly dancing on our palms
inciting the captivation of our interest

and they get what they want
because there is no cost to us
to look
to watch
to absorb

we fight demons that trickle out our ears
and run down our cuffs
locking themselves around our wrists
laying themselves against our arms
in words we didn't know existed
in relation to ourselves

and they get what they want
as we watch:

the price of absorption
is to lose your right thinking

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.

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.

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

one year since i made the worst decision of my life
(worse than ryan ever was.)

2014, the year i was molested
the year i decorated my arms and thighs
with a knife
and a cigarette lighter.

2014, a year of ups and downs
commemorated by the first time you shoved your hand down my pants, held my face down on your ****, pushed me up against a wall with your hand up my shirt

...how does one celebrate such a year?
dinner?
a movie?
flowers?
gifts?
more *** that i don't want?

sounds about right.

excuse me if i don't feel like
celebrating,
boyfriend.

i'm starting to get the feeling
that i'm being jipped
duped
what do they say?
wool over the eyes
an' ****
i wore that little black dress
with the frazzled flowers
and the scooped neck
that you like
(i guess i didn't know you liked it...)
funny that the neck is called scooped
you wanted to scoop
me out of
that dress
tonight

i always get this feeling
when i trip
and fall in love
as i stand up,
scrape myself off
i am
suddenly suspicious...
what the hell did i trip over
anyway
you gotta trip
to fall
i get the feeling
that i tripped over a mountain
and fell in a puddle
what the **** was the whole mountain **** about
i'm really not too keen on this puddle

Today someone told me
that i don't write poetry
i write random ****
in verse
and then they went on to say
that i'm an insult to humanity
love
war
peace
happiness
all that good stuff

i just kind of agreed
i don't like to argue
with me

i have learned very well
how to be awake.
my best teacher
and the one that was most interested
in seeing me succeed
was
Nightmare
along with his mentor
Trauma
and their friend
D
i
v
o
r
c
e
.
.
.

...they have taught me well enough
to make sure
i will never sleep
again
they have helped Tired
unpack from the back of my mind
and move into the new space
that just became available
behind my eyes
they have really
been looking out for me
every single day
these last two years
and i really owe my success
to them.

Divorce,
Trauma,
and
Nightmare,
you are excellent
at what you
do
and i commend you
for your
diligence

the fact that i can never spell
unfortunately right
never ceases to **** me off.

unfortunetly?
unfortuntely?

what ****** me off even more
is that spellcheck always thinks i'm trying to say
fortunetelling

...punk ***

yesterday
i found out
my mom sold my dog
and chopped down the tree
that my brothers and sisters and i
spent our whole lives playing under.
my little sister
gave me a sawed chunk
of the Big Tree
to remember it by
everything in my life
is a sawed chunk
a ****** piece
of something bigger
that once was all mine
and whole
and perfect...
mom,
i'd rather have
the ******* tree

you and me,
little sister
must learn to talk
without words
words mess everything up
words like
mom
and
dad
like
abandoned
abused
anxiety
hate.
little sister
how shall we fix this
how could we
ever?
how can you fix
something that doesn't
belong to you?
when mom and dad won't talk
we feel the need
to talk for them
but to each other,
instead
little sister,
we cannot
use words
but i don't know any other way
to speak.
little sister,
help me.

i'm sitting in my underwear
petting my cat
eating chocolate
and writing poetry

why?

cuz *******
that's why

i know that i am hurting you
by staying away,
but mommy hurts me, too.
she cannot tell me that she doesn't give a **** for me
and then send me texts
telling me
she is missing me
praying for me
loving me
half an hour away
this time i'm the one that doesn't give a ****,
mom.

oh, little brother.
oh, little sister.
i know i am hurting you
i know that i can count the times i have visited you this year
on one hand
i know you miss me
please know
that i am sorry
i will try harder
i am not helping anything
by hiding

mother will see me
but i will not see her
she's the dragon in my dreams
as a child
encompassing everything i love in her scaled hands
and long teeth
holding them
away from me
i will get what i love back
that is a promise
even if i have to
****
things
like
me