it was about three days ago, when i first noticed it. 
like a slight change in the weather or 
like when someone taps you on your shoulder and then runs away. 

it was subtle, the way i realized i hated you. 

the way way i hated your square features and grey eyes. 

I remember it it well because i was just thinking about 
how much i love you, when it hit me. I was smiling to myself about you 
when i realized how much i hate you. 

and what ive realized is it is not the kind of hate 
that you see in a movie, where they hate you because they love you. 
no. 
i just hate you. 
i hate you for telling me i’m less than
i hate you for breathing and i hate you for 
hating yourself and 
i hate your dumb smile and i hate your laugh and 
i 
hate 
you,
because,
you hate you,



 

Only 1 or 2 more parts to come. Enjoy!


I realize that he called me by my nickname. I turn to yell at him but he’s already pulling out of the parking lot, alone. I finish my shift, grab my bag, and head to school. When I go inside i put my board into my locker and head into my first class, on my way i hear some girls talking about how one of them got laid and i roll my eyes.  I sit down at my desk alone and wait. I realized that twenty minutes had passed and we had no teacher so we walked out into the hallway, it seemed like no one had a teacher today. There was no staff member in sight so everyone cheered and before I knew it everyone was leaving. I grabbed my board and went out the South Wing exit, that's normally where all the drug addicts were and there were no cameras out that wing so everyone got away with everything.

I like my little brother he's short and has brown eyes

I like my older brother he’s tall and has brown eyes

My little brother throws a lot of tantrums

My older brother gets me mad a lot

I like to play with my older brother

My brother likes to play with me

My little brother goes outside a lot

My brother is always on his phone

My brother goes to edmunds

my little brother goes to IAA

We both watch tv

We both go to school

We both

Like each other

 

Big, big thank you to all the writers, photographers and artists who are published in Anthology 9 -- and your families and friends -- who joined us for the launch of this beautiful book last night! Maglianero's was packed. We counted 130 people squeezed into the cafe to celebrate and share the YWP spirit! If you missed the launch and want a copy of the anthology, please email Susan Reid: [email protected]. Thanks everyone!!
 

I look into a mirror.
What do I see?
It's supposed to be
A reflection of me.
The long, dark brown hair,
Tan skin, representing
A country far away,
Brown eyes with
Lashes black,
A girl so tall
Her forehead doesn't
Make it in the frame.
The mirror says
This is me,
What everbody sees,
But something
Is missing.
This image
Does not hold 
My voice, or
Tell how small I feel
Inside.
This representation
Does not hold meaning
Of who I am.
yet
If this is what they see,
And think I am,
What stops the world
From knowing me
as
A towering girl from
Some sports team, probably
Basketball or crew,
Perhaps from another country.
If I was wearing my glasses,
They might think I was
Smart.
Makeup might say 
I'm insecure, or over
Confidant.
But this is not who I am,

I put on my too-small boots
I haven't worn them in a year
I put them on for you.
I tramped through the forest
Just to find those berries
I was only enthusiastic for you.
I scratched myself and didn't mind the pain
Only for you.
I stayed up half the night
Boiling those sweet smelling plants
Just for you
For your pleasure
I walked across those kitchen floor boards hundreds of times
Back and forth
Trying extra hard to remember
All the things I forgot
I gave up time
I could have spent
With you
I'll be spending it with dishes my sister should be washing
But I'll know
I did it for you.
For you
So that I could walk through the aisles of frozen food,
Feet aching
To find just the right ingrediants
For my love letter cooked 
From my heart to your rude
Mouth
I paced back and forth
I was panicked and frazzled
Trying to remember

One the day of her becoming,
She cried crimson tears --
Rich in iron,
Stolen from the women who came before her --
Her fingers intertwined
With the lace
From the scraps
Of her mother’s Wedding Gown.

The edges burned,
Rubbed against her knuckles,
Ripping
The stitches of her personhood --
Taking away
The false meaning of her virginity,
Of the space between her thighs,
Air between her lips…

She tried one million times
To read the spaces
That her body filled --
To shrink her hips
And her breasts,
Removing herself
From generations of bodies
Commanded to conceive.

All she wants
Is to barely fill
The Wedding Gown
That her mother left her.

He changes with the seasons.

Lightly tanned skin, silky brown hair, and grass-green eyes in the spring. He likes to wear a colorful flower crown on his head.

Tan skin, curly sand-blonde hair, and ocean blue eyes in the summer. Pale freckles kiss his face, marks of affection from the sun.

Fair skin, auburn hair like the changing leaves, and radiant yellow eyes in autumn. His eyes can seem overwhelming but they are also beautiful, matching with the colored leaves around him.

Pale skin, wispy hair so blonde it’s almost white, and frosty blue eyes in the winter. His hands are always cold.

As he physically changes, his personality changes as well.

In spring, he is cheerful and gentle.

In summer, he is laid-back and fun.

In autumn, he becomes more quiet and observant, simply accepting the things around him and not becoming involved.