you can’t tell me i’m not forgotten until you’ve been the kid that parents never talk to.
you can’t tell me i’m not unloved until you’ve been the grandchild that grandparents never travel for.
you can’t tell me i’m not ugly until you’ve been the girl always scrutinized for her weight, hair, skin, and everything in between.

you can’t because you are remembered
you are loved
you are beautiful
      breathtaking
      gorgeous
      lovely
impeccably striking in every way, shape, and form.

you can’t say you’re forgotten
you can’t say you’re unloved
you can’t say you’re ugly
you can’t
i can

she planted
her hopes
where another's
dreams
already lay
and watched
as her future
withered
away.

i used to get this feeling
that the world was really great
i remember playing hopscotch in
the driveway with the
sun shining
like the most
beautiful
thing
a beacon of
light
from god himself
i remember dancing
in the backyard with
the sprinkler on
water
flying
skirt
jumping
neighbors
smiling
i was
happy
i used to climb that one
tree at the
park
i called it
mine
one day they chopped off the branch i
always
sat on
not mine
i wanted to be a
dancer
ballerina
enchantress
mom said
no
not
good enough
not enough
money
do something
practical
i just wanted to create
magic
and touch the
stars
that was when
the sky got
blacker
and
the world got
bleaker
then i looked
at other girls
long
legs
thin
arms
soft
hair
pretty
face
me.
thicklegsfatarmstangedhairuglyface
better
o­ff
dead.
pale skin spiderwebbed
with red
red words
red lines
pink scars
dead eyes
all of a sudden the
world
wasn’t that great
then came
the pills
the
tears
the bed
dead

Ruth T. ****** put her cigarette between
Her chapped lips and sighed
As she started the dishes.
She was feminine in the same way
that Clint Eastwood is; She wasn't.
"Mama?"
"Oh god!" Ruth squealed,
Allowing the cigarette to fall
From her mouth into the sink where
It went out with a sizzle.
"I don't mean to scare you none,"
"What?"
"Where's Papa? He said he'd be
Home tonight to help me fix my wagon
For Bugsy."
"Well he isn't." Ruth resumed
The dishes in the same way that one
would pick up a book.
"But where is he?"
"I don't know ******!" But she most
Certianly did know. "Did you string the
Laundry on the line like I told you to?"
"No."

Rosie J. ****** fell asleep that night,
Thinking that she had deserved
Exactly what her Mama had
Done to her left eye.