I like to go backwards in time and dance
in counter-clockwise motions that make
me feel young, again. I stopped laughing
when I turned twelve, because I hated the
laugh-lines that made me think I was getting
older by every second that I let out a little giggle.
I liked my childhood best of all. everything was
so simple, so carefree. I never worried about a
failing grade, or whether my love handles looked
too big in my new lavender shirt. or if my skinny
jeans made my butt or my thighs or my calves
look too big, I never wondered about material
things at all. when I was eleven I still, still
worried about you.
I worried too much for my age, I took care of my
brother who always looked like so fragile. the
blue-purple veins almost melting out of his plastic-
smooth arms. my parents were never really there to
care, as much as they should have.
I once found out where my mother kept her stashed
adrenaline and happiness, it was in the closet in a
twenty-four-pack filled with different types of alcohol.
I thought that by taking it away she would begin to care
about my plastic brother, and my vulnerable-green-eyed
self.
I’ve never been more wrong in my life.
I learned that night why the closet was the hiding spot.
it was a pacifier, to stop the fury at her own children.
that night, looking at my brother I realized we were
both looking blue-purple today. my veins were still
in my body, my body was just black-blue-purple-yellow
from when her hand wielded my father’s old belt.
my father wasn’t around much, and when he was
he was worse than my mother. with his almost
black eyes and his demanding, unyielding voice
he commanded fear.
who’s too say now that childhood years are the best
times of your life, when so many are hurt every day.
I’d still turn back time, because now, now everything
just got much worse. I worry more than ever now
about everything that hits me in the face, every little
thing I see with my too-open green eyes. maybe, if
I walked around with a blindfold on I’d see less trouble
and I’d feel less obligated to help the world stand on their
own two feet.
the world is my home, and I’ll save it from drowning.
Author notes
day 2: you always said it was too good to be true.
mesmerized--x
---
blahhhh i dont really like this 
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Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Stanza 2 - I know the feelings.
This is so heartbreaking.
Your work takes my breath away. -
aww
intense
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powerful writer.
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thankyouu
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or if my skinny
jeans made my butt or my thighs or my calves
look to big,
to --> too.
I worried too much for my age, I took care of my
brother who always looked like so fragile. the
blue-purple veins almost melting out of his plastic-
smooth arms. my parents were never really there to
care, as much as they should have.
mm I love that.
this isn't true is it? :|
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