KatieKateKat

Dear ____________: You are 16 (yes, I know, almost 17) and I really never expected for you to ask for birth control even though the door has been open for you to ask all along. I know, I know, you are growing up and I guess my head has been in the sand. I like picturing you in smocked dresses and hair bows or covered with finger paints laughing with me in the kitchen. So this is a BIG step for me, but an even bigger step for you. And for what it’s worth, you could be 30 and I’d still think you were too young. That’s just what parents do. First off, let me commend you for coming to me to ask. I know it was hard. I know it w

Put me on a pedestal and watch me suffer silently. Raging against my imperfections (that you won't acknowledge) You bring your offerings of flowers and words and bullshit until I can't breathe and my chest aches from your blindness and the reality of never being enough Why can't you see that I don't belong up here? This place is reserved for the stars and the moon. and I'm just a girl with a broken brain and messy hair. Let me fall. Don't catch me. I promise if you do, you'll get hurt way worse than me.

In primary, you were an Indian giver. Giving candy, then demanding it back Offering a seat next to you (which somehow never happened) for borrowed swing time. Dangling the thrill of you (offering just enough) so the other kids would keep trading, keep hoping, keep trying for tiny pieces of you. The commodities are much larger now You deal in the intangibles— hopes, dreams, love. You offer and many gladly accept that trade, including me. I handed you my heart for those very things, but you snatched them back as soon as I let go. And here I stand— heartless , hopeless, dreamless, loveless, watching you walk away with a satchel fu

Why can I find my voice when I hate? When I hurt? When I rage? Words, replete with pain, spill from my mouth like roaches from a sewer. Scurrying from person to person, hiding and multiplying on the keyboard spreading disease in brains, wreaking havoc on souls. Where do the words go when I’m happy? When I celebrate? When I love? Thoughts, far too beautiful for paper, swarm like bees in my brain. Never buzzing far from the honey hive protecting this queen and her heart. Saving every drop of nectar for when the words come too easily again.

And when she was five There were galaxies in her eyes And she couldn't help but notice the wonders of the world She saw nothing but beauty And when she was seven There were tears in her eyes And she couldn't help but notice the bruises on her skin Put there by someone who should never have touched her like that And when she was eleven There was fear in her eyes And she couldn't stop him, not matter how many times she said no He used her And when she was fourteen There were scars on her arm And she couldn't deal with the demons in her head So she bled every night And when she was sixteen Her eyes were empty And she couldn't stop crying Bec

Put me on a pedestal and watch me suffer silently. Raging against my imperfections (that you won't acknowledge) You bring your offerings of flowers and words and bullshit until I can't breathe and my chest aches from your blindness and the reality of never being enough Why can't you see that I don't belong up here? This place is reserved for the stars and the moon. and I'm just a girl with a broken brain and messy hair. Let me fall. Don't catch me. I promise if you do, you'll get hurt way worse than me.