That's me there, under the streetlamps glow. Do you see?
That’s me there
Under the streetlight
Do you see me?
That’s me there.
I’ve come back.
I want my things.
They were waiting for me in the car
Ten minutes
I told them
I heard you screaming
Don’t think I cared.
That’s me there,
Midriff bared,
With dirty hair.
That’s me
Can’t you see?
I’ve come to take my things
Unlock your door.
Wearing stolen jeans
That used to fit; saggy she tightens her stolen belt.
They don’t ever stop me.
I put on their earrings
And watches and jewels
No alarm sounds
As I walk out the door
Should I feel guilty for it?
As I say good day?
And your smile strangles me?
For not paying the bill?
Then stop me.
But it’s cold outside
And I don’t like what I wear
Screaming at me
Don’t think I cared
Do it. Hit me.
I dare you
They’re waiting for me out there
Ten minutes, I said.
Push me, pull me
Tear away my soiled clothes
I pushed them in my underwear
I dare you, touch me there
I’ve fallen down the stairs
I hate you
It’s that boy you see
I want him to want me
To see me for me
And your clothes I take
They make me look different.
That’s me under the streetlight over there, midriff bare.
I’ve come to take my stolen things.
Do you see them too?
There must be twenty of them there
Guys I’ve riled
They hate you now.
So don’t stop me.
Unlock your door.
I’ve cried to them
In my soiled clothes
my midriff bared,
Your secrets are not safe with me
Everybody knows
I told them all.
And I lied even more.
Everybody hates you.
Scream at me.
Don’t think I cared
You will die
I’ll make it happen
Already have a price
A number
I scream at you
Don’t think I cared
Don’t think I won’t
Don’t leave your wallet hanging around
Lock your safe
With all my shoes
And dirty clothes
Everybody hates you
But not as much as me
Do you see me?
As I walk up to the door
I’m fourteen
Do you see me?
Do you hear my fist pound upon your door?
Do you hear them?
They are not yelling in jest
Put down the phone
I just want my things
Then I will disappear
I’m fourteen
Some of them have mounted me
I’m fourteen
Do you see the girl?
I can’t see anything
My fist is bloody
The police are here
Calm down Frankie
Calm down.
You never open the door.
They put us in a line
Giving each of us a turn
I lie;
"My name is Suzie," pointing
Down the street," I live right over there."
My hair is dirty
Oh, the preachers daughter!
Yes, that’s me
I smile, I nod.
My eyes glazed
Scatter kids
Scatter.
I’m fourteen- don't you see me?
Suzie says I am a slut,
She really hates me.
That’s ‘cuz her brother raped me.
He did it twice
Don't you see me?
LOOK OUT YOUR WINDOW.
I hate you
I disappear
And you’ll never stop me.
- Two Mismatched Sandals
"This is writing begging to be read, and you are a powerful writer. Even with the seemingly passive almost non-eventful ending, it is still a continuance and that takes guts to do that. I could read your work all day and all night." - I will share you
A chant of faith in finding the road to self full of healing and mystery.