I'm called a lot of names
But the name I go by the most is Renita
Its my middle name but its the other me
My second life hidden behind my first name
Renita will always be my actual name
For my depressed,Unhappy,crushed,hurt self
My first is like my beautiful lie
Katelyn might be bubbly and happy
But check behind her and you'll find Renita

           "Do you really know how much pain can be in one person,one girl,one me"

I once met the most beautiful girl
but she was also the most broken
she was just as shatered as the mirror I broke
because I couldnt stand my reflection.
I think she was beautiful
because her frown was the most genuine
thing that was is real in this world.
She sang once, but the birds didnt care to
sing along, because her voice was never heard
I think she was beautiful
not because she was angry, sad, hopeless,suicidal,fragile
but because she was still standing
she was beautiful because after everything
she was the only one still standing.

to my Madolyn, Rob , Soliana, Malak, Pinkpearl, Daniel, BJ, Miki, Jules, Willow, Poets Rain, Her, Ashan, Billy, Katelyn, Kirstens, Leah, Emily, Liz, Skyler, HB, Danielle, Robin, Lynnie, Veer, Abigail, and Fawn

We haven't been here long
At all
But your support has been
overwhelming
...to us at least

We haven't written masterpieces
At all
But your responses have been
overpowering
...to us at least

Know we notice you,
Know we recognize you,
and try to get to know you
through the words you present

We could never repay you
At all
But, please, don't forget
we love you
...to say the least

We are honored
We will always work to honor you


Sincerely yours,
A&T (seriously not a ripoff)

P.S.
I can't handle anymore people so you guys are going to have
to help me ****** anyone new coming over. I'll pay.

At different points in my life, different events changed my life for both better and worse. This is a collection of letters to myself throughout different periods of my adolescence.


    Dear Mia, you are nine years old, and you just lost your grandfather, the only one who truly understood you and all of your quirks, that later on people will call ‘social’ and ‘generalized’ anxiety.
Not only that, but your family moved out of your childhood home just months after. I know things are really confusing and painful right now, and that you can’t hide in your mom’s closet anymore, because this house is different.
You search for new hiding places, trying and failing to find a new sense of security. You will not find this until you are thirteen, so please stop searching so hard.
Losing your grandfather feels like the end of the world, because this is your first loss. Honey, it will not be your last.
You’ll get used to it.


    Dear Mia, you are ten years old, and you have just met your Nana’s ex-husband. He asks you to call him grandpa. This makes you very uncomfortable, because you already had a grandpa, and he’s dead now. You do not have to do anything you do not want to do.
Do not call him grandpa, and do not try to get close with him. All he will do is use you to trick people into believing he is getting better, that he’s clean.
He isn’t, and he will never be. He has **** and ******* stashed in different parts of his house; stop going there.
You are too young to know what they smell like, but you do anyways.


     Dear Mia, you’re finally a teenager! But you assume this makes you a woman now. You are not, and I urge you to not do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.
Your favorite uncle just shot himself and your mom refuses to ever get out of bed. She never looks you in the eyes anymore. You feel like a part of you has died- whatever you do, do not try to fill that emptiness in your heart with a boy.
Especially not him.
It will not help. If anything, it will make you feel a thousand times worse, and you will never be able to shower enough times to get the feeling of his filthy hand prints off of your body.
I know you want to, but please do not use a blade to try and carve out where he touched.


    Dear Mia, you’re fifteen, and the next couple years will be the most painful. The only thing you will be able to think about is suicide. Your uncle’s and Connor’s, and the attempts of James, Katelyn, and Kait’s.
Maybe even your own?
I am begging you to not steal your dad’s scotch bottle. It tastes disgusting, and it won’t help anything; all it will do will create yet another bad habit.
You didn’t listen to me before, and you started cutting.
Please stop.
It will only make you more paranoid than usual, and the scars that mark your body will only make you even more self conscious (yes, that’s possible, unfortunately).


    Dear Mia, suicide is not the answer. Stop.


    Dear Mia, you finally got some professional help. Depression and anxiety crept into your mind and made themselves a home, but pills will help.
Do not refuse them, it will only make things bad again. Also, this girl has a crush on you. You’ve been friends for a while, and she kissed you last night.
Do not date her.
You are only lonely; you do not actually have romantic feelings for her. She has mental issues that will only mess up your recovery.
She is manipulative and possessive.
Do. Not. Date. Her.


    Dear Mia, you are seventeen. After dating that girl, you felt completely worthless. You are not worthless. It may not seem like it, but you have so many friends that care for you; you will realize this soon, because that girl is about to become nasty and violent, and these friends will help you stand your ground when standing your ground seems impossible. She will move in a few months and although she will try to contact you, you will not answer.
You will be able to breathe again; I promise.


    Dear Mia, it is 7:55 on a Friday morning. You are able to get out of bed again. You are able to do your makeup without crying in the mirror. I’m proud of you. It took you a very long time to be able to do this, I know, but it was worth it. Things still hurt, but friends are there to lessen the pain. Thank them.

Why?

Why did I love you?
Why did I trust you?
I knew you would only hurt me
But I guess i was to foolish to see it.
Why did I say yes?
Why couldn't I guess what was to happen?

You were stupid to lose me
Because now you may never have me.
You only made me happy
But I see it was only a front I had.

I wish you were more mature
To really see how you felt
Because if you did look inside
You would have seen
I really meant nothing to you.

I am truly happy now.
Can't you see it?
So why do you always try and ruin it?

I am happy with someone
Who you can't take me from.
Her name is Katelyn Janelle
And she will always be mine.
You will never have me
As long as we are happy together.

So again I ask myself
Why did I love you?
Why?

“you can't go home,” said thomas wolfe, “back home to the
old forms and systems of things which once seemed ever
lasting but which are changing all the time.” but...here i am.
i've shattered that idea like expensive broken china, like the
mirrors i shattered within the 72 hours of being back here in
texas, the state of volatile weather patterns and skeletons i've
hid in the toybox in the attic upstairs. he said, “i can't go back
home to my childhood.” thomas, i have retained memories
like these and kept them hidden in the jewelry box along
with the lock of my hair i cut with scissors purposely when
i was seven ******* in a bow. i've uncovered artifacts from
my past, refuting your statement. thomas said, “i cannot go
back home to aestheticism.” as he believes the small-town
image i exist within will shapeshift at will and without
hesitation. another thing, he mentioned, “i cannot go back
home to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and the all-sufficiency
of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love'.” landmarks still stand out to me.
the bridge connecting both parks nearby my house overlooking
a large lake at the peak of the golden hour is sufficient enough
for art. it is sufficient enough to be considered something of
beauty, that needs to be captured. it is sufficient enough to
remember i've loved and lost so many things on this bridge.
thomas said, “i cannot go back home to the father you have
lost and have been looking for.” but thomas, i have recently
faced my dad with red glazed-over eyes, and he has always
been looking out for me. he has always shone a beacon
towards me, yet i've been so terrified of following the lights
in fear of losing my shadows. you told me, “i cannot go back
home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden
for you.” all i have been doing is surrounding myself with
people who can help me, save me, and ease my burdens.
and i can't help but notice gaps in these moments when
you say, “you're back home to the escapes of time and
memory, but katelyn, remember, the old forms and systems
of things which once seemed everlasting are rapidly changing
all the time.” and i notice the large gaps like amnesia blackouts.
sorrow can handle long distance relationships, but i can not.

Oh little Angel forever loved,
Surrounded by your family up above.
Robert & Amy by your side,
My three angels gone to hide.
Play safe and soft, gently remember this,
I send each one my love and gentle kiss.
My heart still aches the tears still flow,
I'm waiting patiently down below.
Oh how I wish I could have minded you so,
Katelyn, Robert & Amy I never wanted you all to go.

Alicia,
Brynde,
Braden,
Kate,
This one's for you,
My children....

Alicia came upon a wish,
Surprise, surprise!
Our lives could never be the same,
Bright and pretty,
Intelligence to stun....

Brynde followed within two years
To join her sister,
To make life full,
A way with Daddy's heart,
A feisty soul,
And willful charmer of bees.

Braden's entrance brought me joy,
To join me as our only boy,
A melancholy son at times, but sharp
At math and quick debate,
Able bodied little man now tall and strong,
I am so glad you came along.

When Katelyn joined our band of five,
We both were stunned, and yet the joy
You brought us with your winning smiles,
Your brains and voice and dancer beauty
Cannot be measured, can't be bought.

As I am growing old, I've cried my share of tears,
I've laughed and raved and mourned the years,
I thought my work was in another place away
From you, my bonnie bairns, but as the years come on,
I must give thanks for you...each one,
And count myself a man so blessed
To have four children safely born,
To have a loving wife,
My only love, and Mother of you all.

Dear time,
Oh how you seem to fly by
When I look into the eyes
Of my dear old grandfather
Throughout my whole life,
He keeps ticking away
At times he is fast as Usain Bolt during the Olympics
But at others he drags along,
Like a kid with a backpack full of homework
When I get to the end of the road
I will look back on how great my grandfather was,
And reflect on all the things I could've done with him.
But now I still have my time with him
And I will make every second last
-Katelyn

Dear grandfather,
I watch you age before my eyes.
Throughout my whole life,
You keep ticking away.
At times you are fast as Usain Bolt during the Olympics
But at others you   d r a g  a l o n g,
Like a kid with a backpack full of homework
When I get to the end of the road
I will look back on how great you were,
And reflect on all the things I could've done with you.
But now I still have my time with you
And I will make every second last
-Katelyn

Katelyn has this intensity
I can only describe with her eyes
As they focus on mine

Almost feral
When rhythm pulsed, and she took
My palm in hers

Pulling me from seat to floor
As bodies rocked around us–
I thought it might be her eyeliner

Or the smoke drifting between us.
Maybe I was the focus, or the idea
Kept within alcoholic ferver,

While I was mid answer
To her question, held in the pause
Of her sway, of her strut, of her

Break, reach, pivot, and turn.
My hand rest upon her waist
Yet I felt her control,

Leading me from anxiety
To something a little less
Hesitant.

I get the joy of rediscovering him
It’d be a risk covering this up
And never looking back like Orpheus and Eurydice
His patience didn’t make the cut

“Yea you’re in the sea with me”
“Katelyn, don’t swim too far out” he said
But I got bigger dreams than any tsunami
He’s my lifeline to the coastline
He brings me back to earth
I undress him and caress his head
Kiss and bite his neck until it hurts
He likes it when I get aggressive
Loves when I say his name
Sounds different now, almost percussive
Banging our heads against the bed frame
We’re making a ******* hurricane
We drift
Would you stay on jack?
Just until the morning, or until I’m back
From the river styx
It’s cold here, I like it here, but please don’t forget
The way I made him feel when he didn’t know what to feel
The way I keep it real when he didn’t know what was real
He has to leave me behind now, he looked
The light I kept to follow him is out now, I’m hooked
Maybe the nymphs and deities will mourn our loss
And you will return to me by the will of the gods

Tripping out on dinner bro
Like a fat kid on a skipping rope.
How does minute rice
Out A little dinner bowl
With you. Taste better.
Than lobster biscuit dinner rolls...
I am reputable.
With minimalistic dimensions.
Your built from the thicker mold.
Lafex liquid rolls
As we paint the beginner home.
You call me centerfold.
Even though I'm Katelyn Jenner yo
Trans girl. You would dismember
Any man who tries to enter yo
Remember though.

Its not jealousy I crave.
But eventual praise
At the rain of grey days come and left
With weather stains.
That went away
Awaiting better days.
Together in a letter stained
By tears and ink smudge.
Think love. Was best our drink ***
*** the sentimental stage.
Of a letter is signature. Header phase
And the mental pain
Of leaving this for you in case I went away...