It all started when I was four
and it came with boys holding buttercups beneath girl's chins
and chasing in endless circles
and my skirt was a little too long
and my face was a little too round
to chase them too

I started sitting indoors and painting scenes
'cause I couldn't run like the other girls could
but four year old boys don't like brushes and  blue skies
they like little girls with flushed rosy cheeks

And when I was six
I couldn't sit inside anymore
it was time to go out and face the boys that called me fat
and try to be a rosy cheeked little girl too
but I just got flustered when I heard the laughter

But at least kids are honest
and I knew I was not wanted

By the time I reached nine
I kept my eyes glued to the ground
when I stood with my mother and listened
to my grandfather drop poison into her ears
and told her that her daughter was a monster
and that's why I didn't cry at his funeral

But at least he was honest
and I knew I was not wanted

Things changed when I turned eleven
self-loathing stayed the same
but the new boys were all skinny compared to me
and they did not hesitate to point it out
although quietly
and subtly
more awash with gasps from choking back revolting laughter
that got caught in the back of my throat and turned to tears
I never did cry in public

And the way I walked through the halls was a carefully crafted way
to make myself smaller
but they still plucked me out and told me
'You're so pretty'
(laced with sarcasm)
'Be my girlfriend'
(prolonged by a smirk)
I always kept my mouth shut

And at least kids are honest
at least I always knew I was not wanted

By age fifteen I was so obsessed with mirrors
that I carried one in my hand at all times
I'd tried every makeup technique I could find
and my mother was sad that my blonde curls were gone
now straight and brown to fade into the background
I never knew why this attracted boys
but for once I was glad I looked like everybody else

I was hearing 'you're so pretty' with a genuine tone
from boys who flirted for fun
but I didn't understand
and I thought I was special
and I thought I would marry every one who called me pretty
and we'd have three children and a dog

What I didn't understand was why every night ended with tears
because I was finally feeling the way all the rosy-cheeked girls did
but maybe it was because kids are honest
I preferred to know when I wasn't really wanted

When I was 16 I felt like a woman
because I'd had a history with boys who were *******
and this is how I thought womanhood should be
every night I rubbed three years of makeup from my face
and removed my push-up bra
and said goodnight to the boy that made my heart skip
and woke up the next morning knowing I would be ignored

I wished people would just be honest

At seventeen, I fell in love with a man
who called me his little girl
and made me feel like the rosy cheeked child
I always watched and envied
I fell in love with the way he threatened to leave me when I forgot something
and the way he slapped me
and I fell in love with how he taught me that it was okay for me to be *****
in every sense of the word
because I was the tiny little girl
with the skirt just short enough
and the cheeks just red enough
to be wanted

Sara L Russell 18/4/15 at 23:58*

The past is redundant time.
Only the people who populate it are truly worthwhile,
weaving their ways through our dreams and memories;
every one as precious as spun gold.

Time cannot diminish their brightness,
nor soften the pain that strikes like a spear at the
thought that they are gone.

Time is taking its toll on us all, eroding the distant gleam
of the future, consigning our dreams to
the scattered wastelands of the past. It steals away hope,
it steals away people;

change creates havoc and death leaves its mark on us all.
The past is gone. The future gleams brightly with
a cold, two-dimensional sun.

I miss you.

For us, with calming winds came late,
     we know not their pain;
The seas and tides had taken care
     not even left a stain—
Of all the broken things there were,
     I still have yet to see one;
But veldts of green and daffodils,
     in which to play and run—
They say to me in a whisper soft,
     “Do not dwell on us below."
So we dance among the fields above
     those forgotten long ago.

I wish I had known from the beginning.
When  we first looked into each other's eyes,
that your love was meant to release my pain from so many other tries!
I'm so happy you patiently waited for me to learn all about your soul!
Because without you...with me for the rest of our lives my heart might as well be coal....