I Hate the “Pre-teen Section”

[[I will edit this better tomorrow- I wanted to write but was too tired to make corrections.]]


If I pinch there, will it ever go away?
Can I bruise myself a reminder of whats ugly?
If you told me 12 years ago, I’d still fight with the mirror,
Would I have made all the same choices?
Because when I was 13, it was a year until I was thin enough;
Thin enough to be happy, beautiful and wear trendy clothes.
But by 14, the scale showed progress but the mirror showed none.
So began a vicious cycle of what to eat, when
When to eat and how,
How much water makes bread soft enough?
Soft enough to taste twice?
How do you get rid of stomach acid on your teeth,
and at what age does that cause decay?
Do I take this risk, do I play roulette, close my eyes and jump?

And down the rabbit hole she went,
A lonely journey to the red queen who already had my head.
I drank when I saw “drink me” because though it made me bigger,
it helped me out when I saw stars because
The pill saying “eat me” made me too small to stand

Now at 15, a newly found womens body made me cringe
Don’t you dare stare at my hips, I already know they are too much space
And you need not remind me how my ass looks,
ten men four times my age already told me
as I walked one single block downtown.
Don’t tell me Lolita was such a beautifully dark story,
when you haven’t heard the story from Lolita herself

And people wonder why women have an obsession with being small?
I can’t count the times I’ve heard “oh my god, I fit in the kids section!”
Not as a horrific gasp or a black comedy laugh- but glowing with glee.
Congratulations, you still look barely 18 from the neck down.

What the ads don’t tell you is how much more quickly wrinkles will come,
How many missed opportunities due to being bruised by just breathing,
How you still dream of your mothers wavering voice, with a small knock,
reminding you that your bathroom skeleton was apparent to all.

How it wasn’t until I was half past my twenties
When I finally was able to look into a body-length mirror,
And congratulate myself on cooking dinner today,
Walk without feeling dizzy and weak,
Smile because I woke up to see the sunrise,
Laugh because I was finally able to,
Tell my hips and thighs:

“I love you, and I’m sorry. You grew for me while I tried to shrink away from you.
I won’t punish you for becoming a woman any longer;
Instead, I will embrace you for the goddess you have made me.”


You have rain in your veins
It washes over me and shocks me awake
It freezes and turns my thoughts to ice
For a second it’s a childhood snowman then,
Your rain, now snow,
is a melted, muddy puddle among many

It’s like I offered myself on a silver platter, holding all golden thoughts
It wasn’t until I was close that you saw the tarnish and scratches
You immediately wanted to send it in for cleaning and touch-ups
Was it so dull that you couldn’t see your own reflection in the silver shine?
Or was that your method of dissociating your own harsh blemishes
But some things can’t be touched up and some things remain bent,
even if they were never broken to begin with

Do you remember what you look like in the mirror?
Perhaps you don’t, because you love to call the kettle black
I embraced that darkness a long time ago,
But you are still at the edge of the encroaching shadow-
a flashlight shaking in your hand for fear of self-awareness
I pray for that day you shine that light on your own red hands
and see the word “duplicity” scrawled across your palm
I think you forget you ever wrote the reminder,
or it was your second personality who got the memo

The persona you choose to put on seems to overlook their own shortcomings
as you love to rewrite rules for lives that aren’t yours to live
I swear when you see me, your skin itches with unrelenting anxieties
I feel like you look at me as you would look at an unsolved jigsaw puzzle
You so frantically want to find all the missing pieces to see the perfect picture
I am so sorry but all of those tiny puzzle pieces were lost so long ago
but don’t you dare try to jam in new ones that don’t fit because mine is vintage

There are real tears in the cardboard and memories in each warped corner
What you can now buy in bulk to make your scenery look historical,
is nothing but a plastic collectors replica of those who know that reality
The reality of being held in various hands, in different places at different ages
each individual seeing who can play this puzzle through the fastest
Although no one has taken the time to decipher the full enigma of this heart
And my heart is not a mirror, nor a puzzle, and you can’t find yourself in me
You can’t expect to just trace the lines on a map and claim you’ve traveled those roads
Because roads less traveled are hard to find and they happen to detail my skin
It’s unfortunate that you’d rather focus on how unpaved trails have thorns and nettles
Rather than how bewildering and humbling it can be to get lost in the woods

how to gain confidence from other peoples emotional hot flashes

When I turn on the air conditioning to fight the heat,
You declare it becomes too cold and you step outside
You mention how you need to defrost from the cold blast
But why change a climate when you are wanting to leave
The next time you came over, I had a fire and blankets
Including my favorite worn blanket, ripped at seams and stained
Then your fingers touched the fringe, and you turned up your nose
You said it was too rough against your skin and much too warm
But I have nothing else to wrap around you but used quilts

My quilts carry a history that causes you great disgust
You said they were much too dark, much too damaged,
Much too chaotic in pattern- and that caused you headaches
I wondered if a down-feather, pure white blanket suited you better
However, I never buy them anymore because I’m allergic
And we all know I’m clumsy, so white is a color that I disagree with

I thought about what I could do to meet those standards of yours
If I changed the thermostat again, would you finally find your empathy?
But I could buy a thousand feathered throws or an industrial fan,
And I’m sure you would still find it at an uncomfortable degree
I apologize but I can’t keep wasting my electricity on disagreements
The cost is way too high and you refuse to split the bill

So when I stepped outside to the sun that burned my eyes and skin,
but it still fell at that perfect August sunset;
and the grass feels like the rough edges of my blanket,
but it was cool and soft between my bare feet;
I was reminded of the imperfections that grow in the ground,
they fall from the sky, shine in the moon and bloom in the Spring
So if the earth is pardoned and forgiven for it’s faults,
if I plant myself in the soil- will I be infallible and unwavering?

when it’s barely sunrise

Does the crack in your heart ache?
Did you let it safely heal,
or did you pick at the scab?
I couldn’t offer you a tissue,
or a band-aid,
without cutting my own hands.

These pale, shaky hands that strain when writing
Fingers crossed with a hopeful mind
Nails digging in my palms
Scarred flesh from all the countless times,
I have gathered up sharp, broken pieces of people
Supporting their collapsing structure as I bled
Fragments of glass hearts shattered in my eyes
Piles of broken bones creating a grave for not one,
but two.

I used to be a kind captain,
trusting the sea to guide me home
But now that I know the restlessness of waves,
and unpredictable change in the currents
I refuse to go down with the ship,
becoming a smashed seascape in the coral-
only to be remembered in National Geographic,
when they have underwater shipwreck features.

I apologize my timing was off,
and it was you who found yourself caught-
in the chaotic changing of guards around my heart
But I was exhausted and worn from being
stuck in the snowy winter with you;

I need to defrost
I need to save my own soul at sea
I need to stitch the cuts from your edges
And it’s impossible to heal the broken,
when you aren’t even whole yourself

What happened to the carefree girls
with color in their hair
and lipstick smudged on pink
What happened to the female chaotic
who sang loudly to The Cardigans
and drank on the floor of toilet stalls
What happened to the lonely enigma
with her feet firmly planted in her ways
and a rebellion led heart
What happened to the angry children
who continually broke rules
and the threat of consequence meant little
When did the world instill a fear in our
hummingbird hearts
We have become so afraid to break
that we don’t leave our house without a phone
we don’t cross dark allies alone
we don’t hold a strangers hand
we make sure the pepperspray is full
we are taught and learn to be afraid
Made to feel so scared that we soon forget,

We entered this world as fiery goddesses
daughters of Aphrodite, with hears of Athena