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  Dec 2016 Katalyna Rodriguez
Mikayla
Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.
When I got that anonymous question asking me "why is it when you fool around with your dad, no one gets in trouble, but when I do it I'm a ******?" I almost snapped. The smell of cheap beer formed under my nose and the entire contents of my stomach almost fell to the side of my bed, however, I had not eaten enough to push all of my mental instability out of my mouth. I could feel my father's hands around my wrist, pulling, pinning, calloused hands scratching my nine year old skin. I could hear my young cries for help, and the tears staining my cheeks. I could feel the air on my ear as he whispered. "Tell anyone and it'll be worse next time." I remembered cleaning my own blood from the carpet that afternoon.
And I almost replied with a defensive remark, but I stopped. There was no need for this private matter to be put on display on a social media forum, because then who's the girl that "fooled around" with her father?
But then the question, it irks me to my very core, the reason my hands are so swiftly typing this poem between waves of hurricanes in my eyes. It's as if my dignity has been stripped from me again, no more layer of scar tissue to protect even the deepest layers of my darkest secrets. Nothing was safe anymore.
And when I showed it to my boyfriend, the look in his eyes terrified me. It was as if someone had just dropped a match on a mile long pile of bone dry trees doused in gasoline. But someone had. Someone had dropped a match on me, just as fragile and capable of burning up completely.
Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.
Dear me (9 years from now),
You're 25... And I have some questions.. sorry but I want to know..
Do we ever get out of our emo phase
(Please tell me we do)
Are we In college?
Do we succeed in art or are we majoring in something that makes us miserable in order to create a better life for the kids I insist that we won't have?
Are you still waking up every Saturday morning at 4 am to make grilled cheese and watch Disney films until 10 o clock? Or do we grow up?
Did we become who my parents want me to be or did we decide to follow our heart and not care if we like the same gender?
Dear me in nine years, do we still go by Katt instead of Katalyna? I'm sorry but I want to know... Do we get over our obsession with coffee? Do we ever stop craving the weird things like peanut butter and oreos, sour cream and hot fries, or apples and Chile powder?
Dear me in nine years I'm sorry but I want to do we ever stop caring so much about everything or do we have daily anxiety attacks? Do things get better? I'm sorry but I want to know...
I may have held the gun
But I didn't pull the trigger

I may have tied the rope
But I didn't pull it tighter

I may have grasped the knife
But I didn't slice my flesh

I may have wanted to die
But it was you who did the killing
Does this make sense to anyone else?
Swiper no swiping..... I replay these words in my head daily. It's an iconic phrase for my little sister.I love hearing the sound of her voice, such happiness and light behind it. It gives me hope. I love how such simple words from silly cartoon  can light up my day when it comes from my six year old sisters mouth. Her smile alone can pull me out of a hole of depression. She's a ray of sunshine shining in the pool of darkness I drown in called emotions. It's funny, at such a young age this little girl has become my hero. At only the age of six she has managed to turn my life around. I could be having the worst day ever and the thought of her puts a smile on my face. So if such a simple thing as a little girls words from her favorite cartoon can brighten up a teenage ******* the verge of suicide imagine what your words can do.
Have you ever wondered what goes on while you’re sleeping?
There's nothing but darkness and not a speck of light to help you see the monsters that are gathering patiently standing next to your bed waiting for the right moment to feast on your fear.
They tell you the end is drawing near.
The tooth fairy could still be waiting to collect all your teeth, and the boogie man probably still camps out under the bed haunting your dreams.
And trust me its a lot worse than it seems.
You check every ten minutes to make sure you closed your closet door because you never know what will creep out to torture you.
And now you have a funny feeling that you’re no longer a whole,that these monsters are stealing bits and pieces of your soul.
You have that feeling that things just aren't going to go right.
Then there's that moment you decide to wake up in the middle of the night.
You open the door and  hear little footsteps echoing though walls.
Then you see the shadows that creep up and down the halls.
Now of course you tell yourself that you're just paranoid, that you're a teenager now you're too old to believe in the monsters under the bed.
Yet you realize that you still have to deal with the monsters inside of your head.
And you know that they are planning to stay.
Then you think hey... maybe controlling the pain you feel will keep these monsters away.
So you start to wonder how do you control the pain you feel?
Because in reality the monsters make it feel just to real.
Then you see the scars that you carved into your wrist last year.
You were controlling pain then but turning back is your greatest fear.
You don't know what to do,
but you the choice is left up to you.
You reach for the blade you have under your bed.
Make a decision; give up or confront the monsters inside of your head.
I'm sick of all my friends being sad lately I mean these are the people who picked me up out if my whole of depression and now they're falling into it. Now all I can do is try to be strong enough to bring them out, but what if I'm not strong enough yet.
What if I fail them.
What if I fall down with them.
What if I'm not good enough.
The world is full of to many of these "what  ifs" to not be afraid. They were there for me, what if I can't be there for them?
You look me in my eyes and you don't see tears....Are you blind?
You say I'm strong, that I have no fears... I think you're blind.
You say I'm smart... And pretty... Oh please I'm not blind,
But if you don't realize that its summer and I'm in long sleeves, you must be blind.
One day you catch me upset, depressed.
I hide my blade and fake a smile and say I'm tired.
You say okay I'll leave you to get some rest.
YOU'RE BLIND
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