To The Girls Who Wear Glass Slippers

To the girls who wear glass slippers:
does the shoe fit?
Does it slide on gracefully, or did you have to sand your foot again and again – until the skin rubbed off – just to get it to slide in uncomfortably?
Is that glue I see, crushed into the slipper, so that your foot won’t hang out?
What’s that – rope? Tying your foot to it, are you?
It might be convenient to dig your foot into the first glass slipper you see, dear, but is your foot okay with it? Does it dangle or quench for air? Does it walk smoothly, without blisters?

To the girls who wear glass slippers:
don’t shape your foot. It isn’t clay.
There might be a prince around someday, a boy who passes you a glass slipper, and asks you to try it on. He might have the medals dangling around his neck, gold rings tightened to his fingers, money waddling around in his pocket – he might have all that, but if the shoe does not fit, then he is not a prince. He is merely an impostor; a concoction of stolen awards, gold paint, and forged money.

To the girls who wear glass slippers:
if the shoe fits, wear it.

My Five Minutes of Fame

http://www.worthingherald.co.uk/news/girl-writes-poem-about-having-autism-1-7766168

This article is my five minutes of fame, I think? My local newspaper interviewed me last week and then today the article was published online and I think it might be out in print later this week.

It’s kinda awesome, in a way, apart from the terrible photograph. My dad sent off the poem and then was like “oh, by the way, I just sent off one of your poems to the newspaper” and I was like “oh cool” without thinking much of it, because honestly, I didn’t think they would respond. But they did, and now I’m in the newspaper.

You can read it if you like but, if you’ve seen my Instagram, you will already have read the poem on there. 🙂

2012 [Poem]

It was 2012,

I was 12,

the world crumbled

around me,

I fell,

It was 2012,

I was 12,

the year of the diamond jubilee,

the London Olympics,

and it was also the worst year

of my life,

it was the year when my innocence

became something of the past,

it was the year when I was tormented so bad

that I thought a blade would help,

it was the year when I thought she would die

and it was the year I thought I would too,

except for her she wouldn’t want it,

it was the year that I had nobody,

no friends, except my cats,

it was the year that I got told I was worthless

over and over and over and over and over

until eventually, I knew it was true,

because why would anyone lie to me?

it was the year I had my face pulled tight

so no one would see me crying

except for one incident

where my IT teacher caught me crying

into my coat,

but that was a one-off,

and no one knew the real reason except one

and then two and then three and it was all too many

especially when that police officer asked for me

and I thought it was me that was in trouble

but she told me it wasn’t me,

it was him,

it was him,

and I didn’t say a word,

but it was also the year my parents lifted my sleeves

and wept,

because I wasn’t the daughter they thought I was,

I was much more damaged,

when I said school was good,

I meant helpmepleasehelpmeicanttakeitanymore

and it was the year I refused to come inside one night,

sat outside shivering,

because my parents knew and I couldn’t deal with how real it was,

how before I had been fine suffering on my own

but now I was suffering with others:

2012, the year I don’t speak of, that I just spoke of.

2012, the year that destroyed me, but repaired me.

2012, the year that chopped off my legs, then gave me stilts.

Smile [Poem]

Trust me,

I’m here,

Waiting for you to smile —

and I’m not leaving

until you do.

I might not be smiling myself,

But that doesn’t mean you can’t;

Don’t be a sheep,

be the one mouth that does

rise.

I’m waiting for you

to laugh and to conquer

but I’m also waiting for you to

see the roses in your

heart.

When I Die [Poem]

When I die,

I want that to be the most peaceful day of my life,

The happiest day,

Whether that be tomorrow or in fifty years.

 

When I die,

I want it to be my death,

Not anyone else’s,

I want to die my way.

 

When I die,

I want to feel it,

Just for a second,

Then be gone.

 

When I die,

I want it to end,

All the agony and the pain,

Forever.

 

When I die,

I want to make everybody smile,

Celebrate and clap,

I want them to appreciate why,

Instead of putting on crocodile tears.

 

 

Sober [Poem]

The rails are screaming,

Calling for my eyes,

For my lungs,

For my heart,

And I am hugging the planks,

Telling them thanks

for being there,

Or rather being the only ones

who cared,

And I am hugging the green,

Wishing not to be seen,

For it to be over,

And to make my mind sober

of your alcohol–

Oh no.

I’m fire in the sky,

A flare of goodbye,

A firework of cries,

A candle of lies —

Sober.

A Time [Poem]

a time where

all girls have short hair

and all boys have braids

a time where

boys wear make-up

and girls let natural beauty show

a time where

girls run around football pitches

and boys dance ballet

a time where

we’re allowed to defy our gender

without the sniggers of our peers

I Don’t Know Anymore [Poem]

I don’t know anymore,

I don’t know whether I’m sure,

Whether you’re going to be there,

Whether you actually care.

I don’t know anymore,

I don’t know whether to run out the door,

Because you’re an invisible friend,

Just another dead end.

I don’t know anymore,

I don’t know why I bother, who for,

Because you’re a door in my face,

A reminder that I’m a disgrace.

I don’t know anymore,

I don’t know how,

I don’t know when,

I don’t know where;

I just know why.

The Struggle [Poem]

Wisps of air momentarily stop my suffocating,

Your hand across my mouth staggers for just long enough

so that I can breathe,

Then my teeth become razors and the new-found strength gnaws

through your fingers,

Leaving you bleeding, crying, and leaving me

smiling, laughing,

Alive.