Читать книгу i didn't mean it but i sort of did - kelsey rakes - Страница 2

once in preschool we all pulled our shorts

down and our dresses up like little whores.

the playground boys ached to touch the lace

hem of my dress, to pull my hair and kiss me

without knowing exactly why they wanted to.

i also hit my sister with a wooden baseball

bat, but that was a mistake, i promise.

once i stepped on a caterpillar and cried because

i thought its family would miss it and also i sneaked

downstairs at night and ate an entire package of

cookies until guilt set in and i threw them back up.

i try not to make mistakes, anymore, which

means these days i watch tv and think about

hurting myself without actually being able to

and eating cookies without actually doing it.

i watch my step and my dress mostly stays down.

i used to cut myself in perfectly straight lines. i

made cookies just to eat the dough. pain still

makes me calm in ways that writing songs and

organized sports never could.

i like to drink until i black out.

i keep these pieces pressed tight in my brain

and mostly try not to think about them. i was

sorry i hit my sister with the bat, really i was.

sometimes i lie.

once i starved myself to see if it would make me pretty.

i used to make bruises look accidental, and i

stopped cutting myself because watching my

mother cry and my boyfriend rage became

very, very tiresome. the doctors feed me pills.

(starving myself didn’t make me any prettier.

but i think scars are pretty and when i hit her

with the bat i cried much harder than she did.

p.s. i’m still sorry about the caterpillar, okay.)

once in a while a boy will think i’m pretty like they

used to in preschool and sometimes we fuck.

i smile like i mean it.