One Day

My two best friends the summer I was fourteen were Sarah and Billie. Sarah and I were at Billie's house and we were getting ready to walk down to the deli for a soda one hot saturday. In the family room, Billie's dad stopped her and asked where she was off to and when he saw she had on makeup he started yelling and calling her names. What is that shit you have on your face he screamed, you look like a whore. Sarah and I froze. Billie stood silent for a moment in the blast of his words, then ran. Sarah and I fled with her out the back door and we didn't stop for two blocks. No one said anything. When we hit the deli, we bought some candy bars and a couple a sodas. Sarah and I kept the owner busy while Billie got a pack of smokes from the vending machine.

We traipsed over the to elementary school and sat against the wall in the shade, eating and smoking.

"Someday my real dad is gonna come get me," Billie said.

"I know," I answered.

Leaving

Ready to be on my own

I contemplate leaving here, leaving him

But when I stand on the edge of the cliff

I don't know if I can fly

Emotional Abuse - a different kind of pain

some people think
that if you haven’t been punched then you are ok but i’m not ok oh no i don’t think i’m ok

i am not covered in bruises my ribs are not broken my hair has not been pulled from my scalp and I have no black eyes or split lips for you to see

i do not wear dark glasses or lots of makeup or a big hat or long sleeve shirts to hide my marks from your prying eyes

some people think that if your hands are not bound and your feet are not shackled and your windows are not barred then you are free to go free to go but you can’t go

some people think that i have it all together my life looks good from the outside and i get good grades in school and study all the time and i want to be somebody

but really i am just a fake i know it’s empty inside yeh it’s all empty inside i’m all empty and i wonder who i am who am i and why do i smile for you when i really want to scream and i want you to tell me where to find anything anything anything
that matters

some people think
they know everything but
they don’t know anything at all no nothing at all
about me

Afraid

July 2006
Afraid

I stand with my chin resting on the metal bar of the gate, searching the empty yards of my neighborhood from the safety of my chain link enclosed backyard. Our house sits at the bottom of the horseshoe shaped road, giving me a fair view of all the yards, all the way to the top of the street.

I am not quite sure where the dog lives, and I have only seen him once. But I believe my brother when he tells the stories of seeing the boxer with a dead cat in his mouth, and one time, of running from the dog, climbing a tree to get away from the hungry jaws.

So I stand with my hand on the latch, a little girl in brown corduroy pants and brown shoes, with waves of fear consuming her at the thought of leaving the security of the yard, with no one to protect her if she ventures out.

Now my hand is on a different latch. Now the enclosure is a gilded cage. Now a fierce dog has become a traitorous adversary. Dread is relentless as I contemplate leaving my enclosure.

It’s like standing on a glacier in a fierce winter storm, knowing deep chasms are hidden under the frozen snow and each step must be tested, measured, to assure there is no hidden abyss as I move forward. I try to envision myself safe on the other side, where the glacier meets the smooth surface of the mountain, where there is hope of soft powder, where I can snap on my skis and glide home.

Home where it is safe, home where it is warm, home where I want to be more than anything.